Who Do You Want It to Be?
by tabby1249
Summary: Set after the end of Book 11: Dead Reckoning, Sookie goes on an unexpected date and finds herself having to reevaluate herself and some important relationships as she begins a new phase in her life.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Having just read and thoroughly enjoyed Book 11: Dead Reckoning, I felt that the events in this book opened up a world of new possibilities for our girl Sookie. I will not go into what happens in the book to create those possibilities if you have not read it yet. No spoilage happing here. As you read this, I want you to consider the title with an open mind and understand that the story is set several months after the end of Dead Reckoning.

If I get any kind of positive response (reviews) from this story, I will try to extend it. Please do not assume that you know who Sookie's date is. As I said, Charlaine has opened up several possibilities for our heroine. If you haven't read the book yet, do so ASAP. It is the best one since Book 1: Dead Until Dark which is my all-time personal favorite.

As always, the characters whose names you recognize belong to Charlaine Harris. It is only in deep admiration and love for her world that I dabble with them.

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><p>I was actually very surprised to find myself standing here as I had not expected her to accept my invitation. So I stood quietly on her front porch for a moment and gathered myself before I knocked. Though I could hear her inside the house, when she didn't answer I cautiously opened the front door and called into the house. "Sookie, are you here?" After a moment I heard her reply from the top of the stairs, "You are a little early. Come on in, I'm upstairs. Come help me zip my dress."<p>

I walked up the stairs as I had so many times before and I could only think that at the top of these stairs was the one woman, out of all those that I had known and bedded, that I wanted above all others. Even though a fair amount of time had passed since the last time I ascended these stairs, each step carried me with the same feeling of anticipation that I'd had the very first time. For many reasons, both large and small, we had been estranged from one another over the last many months and it was my sincerest wish that tonight would be the beginning of a new chapter. I so desperately wanted to repair the hurts, the manipulations, the half-truths, outright lies and the lies of omission that had broken her trust in me. While I could not shield her completely from my world, I wanted to be her partner, her guide, her friend, her protector, and most importantly, her lover. I wanted to have a relationship with her based as much as possible, in trust as well as love. I had learned that even if there was love, without hope and trust there would be no possibility of a future with Sookie. That was a future I did not wish to contemplate, let alone live.

I got to the top of the stairs and stepped across the threshold of her room. I could smell her sweetness and hear her movements in the small adjoining bathroom. She stepped out and smiled at me crossing the room to rest her hands on my arms and give me a chaste kiss on the cheek. Looking me over from head to toe, she smiled and said, "You look great! Is that a new suit?" I laughed and said, "Yes, I felt like tonight might be fresh start and as such it demanded something new." Giving me a sweet smile while turning her back to me, she said, "I feel the same way. Do you like my new dress?"

As I reached forward to zip up her dress, I took her in. She looked like a fresh young woman dressed for a date with a man she does not know well, certainly not as well as she knows me. Her beautiful blond hair was longer than I remembered and styled perfectly straight to flow down to just below her shoulder blades. She was wearing a simple, yet beautiful chocolate brown, high-waisted chiffon dress that complimented both her blond hair and golden skin. It's v-neck was cut low enough to hint at the bounty of her beautiful breasts, but modest enough to communicate "first date" reserve. The flowing skirt kissed the tops of her knees and showed off smooth, tanned and toned legs. She'd always said that one of the benefits of her job at Merlotte's was that staying on her feet kept her legs in good shape. Her feet were encased in a pretty pair of open-toed, high-heeled pumps that showed off her slender feet and pretty painted toes. Her simple necklace and earrings completed the outfit. After taking her in and wanting to say so much more all I could manage was, "You look lovely. All eyes will be on you tonight."

She turned to me and smiled, "Why thank you, sir. That's very sweet! By the way, where are we going tonight?" My vague invitation had only mentioned dinner, but wanting to spend more time with her I had expanded the itinerary. "I thought we might try Coda Bar and Grill in Monroe. They are reported to have good food and an eclectic variety of live music. It sounds like something we both would like. Afterward, if you are up to it, I thought we might go dancing at Harvey's Dance Hall. How does that sound to you?"

"It sounds like fun and I am up for anyplace I haven't been before, especially for dinner and dancing. I am on the dinner shift tomorrow, so I can afford to stay out a little later tonight. Can you give me about five more minutes to put on my lipstick and the finishing touches to my make-up?"

Smiling as I looked at her lovely face, I couldn't imagine what else she would need to do, but I told her that we were ahead of schedule and that she should take her time. As I sat in the chair in the corner of her bedroom, I could only think about everything we had shared in this room. We'd had both important and inconsequential conversations, we had lain quietly enjoying the peace of a country night and we had loudly and rigorously worshipped each other's bodies. I had held her in the throes of passion and while she had cried, laughed and slept. This room held so many of our better memories and I wanted to be able to make some more of those, but so much pain had passed between us I was not sure that we could ever go back there.

Sookie stepped out of the bathroom and she looked absolutely stunning. As she came to stand in front of me, I was struck once again at how perfect she looked and how delightful she smelled. I was overwhelmed by her and would have given anything to simply stay in and hold her in my arms. That could not be however, as tonight was about getting to know one another again. I had broken her heart and in so doing, mine had broken as well. While I could not know, I certainly hoped that tonight would be the beginning of our healing. "Ready?" She asked. I smiled back at her and said, "Very." With that I stood and took her hand.

As we walked down the stairs, she held on to me to steady herself in her high heels. I could feel the warmth of her hand through the sleeve of my dress shirt and jacket. The smell of her perfume combined with her own personal scent was heady. I wanted to wrap myself in it as I was reminded yet again how much I had missed her touch, her smiles and her voice.

As we reached her front door, she handed me her wrap, I put it around her shoulders and let my hands trail down her arms. She turned to look at me over her left shoulder and smiled tentatively at me. She could sense my need and my longing, but was not ready, or perhaps not willing to acknowledge it. Not wanting to do anything that would make her pull away from me, I opened the door and ushered her through it. She was quiet as we walked to the car and I opened the door for her, she thanked me as she settled into the seat and began to buckle her seat belt. Her southern manners seemed to be firmly in place by force of habit while acting as a shield against anything too personal passing between us.

As I settled into the driver's seat, I hardly knew what to say or even how to begin. We seemed to have exchanged all of the customary pleasantries, but I was afraid to bring up any of the issues that had hurt both of us so deeply. Never imagining myself to be a coward, but finding that, at least in this situation I am, I continued with the innocuous comments. "It looks like you have done some work to your house."

She turned to look at me and smiled slightly, "Yes, it's taken a good while, but I have finally managed to get the house painted inside and out and have begun to go through some of the things that have accumulated in over 150 years of Stackhouses in residence. There is still some more work to be done, but at least the house is starting to feel a little more organized and cared for."

And then silence.

After a few minutes, she seemed to gather herself and said, "So, how have you been?"

I didn't know how I wanted to answer this question. I could launch into the events of my recent existence with the details of boring meetings punctuated by periods of personal and private boredom. "I spend most of my time trying to keep my new masters satisfied. It is much as it ever was."

And then silence.

Feeling uncomfortable in the silence, I asked, "How is Jason?"

"He's fine. Jason really never changes much. He is still working on the road crew. He and Michele are still living together and I have hope that this will work out for him. Michele is pretty level-headed and she manages to keep Jason satisfied on lots of different levels. He still runs on his moon nights with the werepanthers out of Hotshot."

Hoping to keep the conversation going and avoid the yawning silences, I asked, "How are things at Merlotte's?

Turning in her seat to look fully at me, Sookie hesitated before saying, "About the same as always. People come in for lunch or after work and have a burger and a beer. You remember well enough that not much changes in Bon Temps. People get up each day to work, try to make ends meet, gossip about one another and then get up the next day to do it all again. After a pause, she asked, "Why are we doing this?"

And there it was. The question that I did not know how to answer, did not want to answer and was more than a little concerned about the possible result of the answer. Only very rarely had I experienced this level of anxiety and uncertainty. So, I deflected. "We are going out to dinner and hopefully on to some dancing." I smiled hoping that would ease the tension. Even after all this time, I should have known better.

Again, she leveled a long look at me. "Stop it! You know exactly what I mean. We have not seen each other in months and months, and then I get a phone call from you inviting me to dinner. After everything we have been through, did you think that dinner and dancing is going to fix it? As she spoke, her voice began to raise, her hands fisted in her lap, and I could sense her weakening efforts to control her temper. The carefully constructed cordiality of our earlier greeting was quickly disappearing. When I had no ready answer, she continued to look hard at me and then turned abruptly to stare out the window.

Giving her and myself a few minutes to calm down, finally, I said, "Sookie, I know how much I have hurt you. I know that my world has inflicted terrible damage on you and has changed your life irrevocably. I want us to be together on some level. For that to happen, we need to talk about where we have been and where we want to go, or if you even want to go with me at all. I have found that I cannot live happily without you in my life. I have to know that you are in my life on some level. I was hoping tonight would be the start of the conversation. I am not asking for a final decision, I am just asking for your company tonight and the possibility of future conversations.

She sat silently through my monolog. Finally, she huffed out a small sigh and said, "You know, these last months have been some of the most peaceful since I got mixed up in the supernatural world. Yes, I have missed you and yes, I have been lonely at times, but I don't know if the price of not missing you or not being lonely should be my safety, well being and the wear and tear on my heart. I cannot count on you and the very nature of your world ensures that you cannot put me first. There is always going to be something that pulls you away from me, gets between the two of us or threatens one or both of us in some fashion. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea! Why, in the name of heaven, would I get involved with you again on any level?"

There was very little I could say to counter or deny her words. Throughout her heated response I had looked carefully at her. She was stressed, angry and a little afraid. As I thought about this, I wondered if I should even ask to have a place in her life again. Nothing that she said was incorrect. Given all of that, I could not stop myself, "Will you please allow me work toward being a part of your life once again?"

As she considered this we pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. As I drove to the valet station, she turned to me and said, "In the whole array of stupid things I have done since I got mixed up with y'all, this is probably the stupidest. Let's see how this evening goes and then we might be able to take it from there."

Pulling to a stop at the valet station, I looked at her and said, "Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2: Hard Truths

AN: Thank you to everyone who has alerted, favorited or reviewed this story. You can tell from my profile that I am new at fan fiction. Your kind comments and attention to my story make me very happy and provide wonderful encouragement to keep going. As always, Charlaine Harris owns it all. I am just privileged to play in her garden for a while.

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><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

_There was very little I could say to counter or deny her words. Throughout her heated response I had looked carefully at her. She was stressed, angry and a little afraid. As I thought about this, I wondered if I should even ask to have a place in her life again. Nothing that she said was incorrect. Given all of that, I could not stop myself, "Will you please allow me work toward being a part of your life once again?" _

_As she considered this we pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. As I drove to the valet station, she turned to me and said, "In the whole array of stupid things I have done since I got mixed up with y'all, this is probably the stupidest. Let's see how this evening goes and then we might be able to take it from there."_

_Pulling to a stop at the valet station, I looked at her and said, "Thank you." _

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><p>I walked around the car to meet Sookie as the valet was helping her out. I offered her my arm and escorted her into the restaurant hoping that what I had to tell her would not be our ending and that we could start again. Alexander Pope said, "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." Though I am no longer human, I was certainly grasping for hope.<p>

We were greeted at the hostess stand by a perky brunette clutching two menus. She walked us to a table by the window overlooking a garden with lighting in the trees and candles lining a winding walkway. It was a peaceful setting that seemed to echo Sookie's silence as we made the walk and took our seats. Her reservations about this evening and being with me were now clearly evident in the set of her mouth and the furrow between her eyes as the waiter came to take our drink orders. Shaking her head slightly and bringing herself into the moment, she looked at the waiter and said, "I'll have a gin and tonic, please."

"I'll have a True Blood, "O" negative." The waiter looked only slightly startled as he looked quickly back at Sookie and then at me again. I asked, "Is there a problem?"

"No sir, not at all. I will be right back with your drinks."

Leaving her menu untouched, Sookie continued to look out the window at the garden beyond. After a few minutes, she turned to me and asked, "Why did you choose a restaurant for this little get together, Bill? You never liked to watch me eat when we were dating."

Recognizing this question for the delaying tactic that it was, I replied, "Over the years I have had to get over many things that have bothered me on levels far greater than watching a human eat. I decided that if I was going to live in the world, I would have to get over my aversion to this particular human habit. Besides, being with you dispels any distaste I might be tempted to feel. "

She smiled slightly and considered that a moment as she studied my face. "Bill, tonight is about more than just wanting to catch up and reconnect isn't it? You have things you need to say to me and I have the feeling that I am not going to like them. So much has happened in my life these last three years that I don't think I can sit here and make pleasant conversation until you get around to telling me what I need to know. I have found out that not knowing what is going on around me and about me is not in my best interest. I think you had better cut to the chase and get on with it."

As she finished her accurate assessment of tonight's agenda, our waiter returned with our drinks. After seeing to our satisfaction with our drinks, he asked if he could take our order. Opening her menu and taking a quick glance at the offerings, she ordered a filet mignon, grilled asparagus and caesar salad. After making all the appropriate waiter noises, he departed, leaving us with the elephant in the room.

When I didn't start to speak immediately, she got the conversational ball rolling, "Have you seen Eric?"

That question was the first of the many items I would need to discuss with Sookie tonight and over the next several days. I had just hoped that it would not come up so quickly, but given their previous relationship I supposed it wasn't too surprising. Virtually everything I needed to share with her tonight and over the coming days was going to make her run the gamut of negative emotions from disturbed to volcanically angry. While my ultimate hope was to win back her heart, I knew that what I had to say would break it. Again.

"Yes. Pam called me several days ago and asked me to come into Fangtasia to meet with him in his office."

"How is he?"

"Sookie, do you know why Eric was summoned to Las Vegas?"

"Yes, Felipe de Castro wanted to know what happened to Victor Madden. Eric had said that he might have to stand trial. He has been gone for two months."

"That is correct. According to Eric, he explained to de Castro what Madden had been doing in Area 5 and throughout Louisiana. Eric also explained how he ended Madden."

With growing fear in her eyes, Sookie asked, "Eric told him the truth about the whole thing?"

"Yes, he only left out your involvement in Madden's final death. Felipe de Castro knows about you and the other humans being in the club at the time of the Madden's ending, but nothing more than that. In his eyes, you and the others were innocent bystanders caught in the middle of a vampire brawl."

"How did de Castro take it? Is Eric going to be punished? What about Pam, you and the others of Eric's retinue there that night?

"Eric has claimed full responsibility for Madden's ending, telling de Castro that all of the vampires present at the club were under his order. Eric alone has borne the punishment for Madden's ending."

Questions began pouring frantically out her trembling mouth. "Wait, she said, Eric "has borne" the punishment? Does that mean that he has already been punished? What did de Castro do? Is Eric alright?

Expelling an unnecessary breath, I said, "He is recovering. His punishment was not as extreme as de Castro had the right to make it. He could have ordered him staked. Instead he ordered him hanged in silver chains for thirty days and he was not allowed to feed during that time. In addition, he has to pay substantial reparations for Madden's death and the inconvenience and potential loss of revenue to the kingdom. Sookie, I know that this feels extreme to you, but this was the vampire equivalent of a slap on the wrist."

As I recited the list of punishments, Sookie's eyes widened and filled with tears. I reached for her shaking hand, and said, "There was one more condition of Eric's punishment."

Gripping my hand, she said, "Tell me."

Wishing I could say anything other than this, I replied, "Eric has been ordered to dissolve his marriage with you and honor his maker's marriage contract with Freyda, the Queen of Oklahoma."

With a sharp intake of breath, Sookie snatched her hand from mine, stood up abruptly and walked away from the table. I stood and watched her walk to the Ladies Room and go inside. As I sat back down, the waiter came with Sookie's salad. Feeling that she probably had lost all appetite, I handed him my credit card and told him to box up her steak "to go" and to bring it with our check. As he walked away, I could not stop feeling like my whole function in Sookie's life had been to speak words of pain that only served to break her heart.

Ten minutes went by, then fifteen, then twenty. Finally, Sookie came back to the table and sat down. "Bill, I don't think I can eat. I am sorry. Can we…can we just go?"

Wanting to do whatever it took to ease her suffering, I said, "Yes. I have had the waiter box up your meal for you." As I looked at her, emotions rippled across her face in waves: pain, horror, grief, anger, resentment, loss. Finally, her faced looked as if she had borne too much pain and that she was weary with the weight of it. Looking around for the waiter, I saw him come toward us with Sookie's meal boxed up and in a bag with the restaurant's logo. I quickly signed the check, left the tip and offered Sookie my hand.

She stood and we walked out of the restaurant and into the night.

As we waited for the valet, she turned to me and asked, "When will I be able to see Eric?"

Again, having to be the instrument of Sookie's pain, I replied, "The King has ordered Eric to stay away from you until he comes to preside over the dissolution of your marriage. He is not content to take Eric's word that he will do as ordered. Eric returned to Louisiana with guards that escort him to and from Fangtasia and who go to rest in his home each morning. They rise when he rises. Also, by the King's orders, Eric is not to be left alone at any time until your marriage is ended and he becomes Consort to the Queen of Oklahoma. "

Standing rigidly beside me, Sookie asked, "Who sent you to tell me all of this, Bill?"

I could only respond with the truth, "The King of Louisiana, Arkansas and Nevada, Felipe de Castro. Before I begin my other duties at his pleasure, I was sent by the King to let you know of Eric's changing circumstances and to prepare you for the dissolution of your marriage. The King still intends to honor his pledge to protect you. He considers you one of his kingdom's greatest assets."

Looking at me in disbelief at my words and with growing distrust and anger in her eyes, she said, "Well, isn't that just great, Bill? You get a promotion and Eric gets sold off to Oklahoma. That works out just swell for you doesn't it? Do you think this is your opportunity to dash in and sweep me off my feet? Do you think you have a prayer with me?"

I knew that Sookie would be angry and I knew that she would probably begin to take her anger, grief, and hatred of the treacherous and unforgiving world of vampire politics out on me. However, her anguished accusations were not wholly false. I did hope that now that Eric was not allowed to be in her life I might stand a chance. Unfortunately, there was much, much more that I was going to have to tell her and any chance I would have to be important to Sookie again would lay in how well I could help her navigate her new reality. She will hear nothing but truth from me and I plan to rebuild her trust in me by not shielding her. I want to be and will be her ally, protector, guide and friend. My hope to be her lover again will take a long time to bear fruit, but I am a patient man.

The valet pulled up with the car and as I touched Sookie's elbow to guide her, she jerked away striding toward the car and letting herself inside. I went around to my side of the car prepared for a long, silent ride to Bon Temps.


	3. Chapter 3: Trust

AN: To the new readers who have alerted, favorited, and reviewed my story…THANK YOU SO MUCH! I told a reviewer a little earlier today that your reviews are like "crack" to a writer. I get ridiculously happy when I see a review alert in my e-mail box.

This is the third chapter of exposition and very little action. I promise that they won't all be this way. I admit that writing action will present a challenge, but it is one I am looking forward to. Please let me know what you thing about the story so far. Is Bill sincere or plotting again?

Charlaine Harris, THANK YOU for giving us all such engaging and sexy characters to love and to play with. As always, I am just playing "ring-around-the-rosy " with Sookie, Bill and Eric. Charlaine Harris is mother to them all.

**Previously…**

_I knew that Sookie would be angry and I knew that she would probably begin to take her anger, grief, and hatred of the treacherous and unforgiving world of Vampire politics out on me. However, her anguished accusations were not wholly false. I did hope that now that Eric was not allowed to be in her life I might stand a chance. Unfortunately, there was much, much more that I was going to have to tell her and any chance I would have to be important to Sookie again would lay in how well I could help her navigate her new reality. She will hear nothing but truth from me and I plan to rebuild her trust in me by not shielding her. I want to be and will be her ally, protector, guide and friend. My hope to be her lover again will take a long time to bear fruit, but I am a patient man._

_The valet pulled up with the car and as I touched Sookie's elbow to guide her, she jerked away striding toward the car and letting herself inside. I went around to my side of the car prepared for a long, silent ride to Bon Temps._

We had been driving for about twenty minutes with Sookie sitting rigidly in her seat and starring out of the passenger window. I would glance over at her occasionally to see if there was any softening in her posture. Seeing nothing but the back of her head, I could safely assume there was not.

Finally, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her turn to stare straight ahead through the windshield. She sat like that for a few minutes before she said, "Bill, why should I believe anything you say?"

"I really do not have any reason to lie to you." I replied.

"Don't you?" she asked. "You've wanted me to break it off with Eric since the beginning of my relationship with him. How do I know what you have told me is true? You've told me that the King has ordered Eric to end our marriage and that I cannot see him before it happens. I have no way of verifying that what you're telling me is true and we both know that you have a history of not being truthful with me."

As calmly as I could, I said "Those are all fair points, but I have several reasons why you can and should trust me. First, Eric has been back in Shreveport for nearly two weeks and according to you, he has not called or contacted you in all of that time. Even without the bond, given your status as his wife and the fact that he seems to love you, would you say that is normal behavior for him after not having seen or talked to you in two months? Wouldn't he have at least called you on the phone even if he didn't want you to see him because of the condition he is in following his punishment?"

Reluctantly and with a rising unease, she replied, "Yes, I suppose he would have. But I also know that being gone for two months would leave him a lot to catch up on."

Find her response oddly defensive, I countered "Certainly he would have had much to attend to on his return, but you are fooling yourself if you think that would keep him from at least calling you unless something big was happening to prevent it."

Giving her a minute or two to process that I continued, "Do you want to hear the other reasons why you can believe what I tell you?"

"Yes," She said quietly.

"The second reason that you should believe me is that I have learned the consequences of lying to you. Every minute of every night, I wish that I had made different choices related to you and to us. I loathe myself for what I did in coming to you under false pretenses. While I had to come as ordered, once I fell in love with you I should have exhausted every effort to keep you away from the Queen and my world. At the very least I should have told you what I'd been ordered to do before Eric forced me to do it. My failure to do so was craven and cowardly."

"I hate myself for how I flaunted Sela Pumphrey in front of you after you broke it off with me. I am ashamed at how I tried to forget you by trying to feel something for Judith and then doing nothing but hurting her after all that she had done to heal me. It seems all that I do is hurt people in ways both great and small that I cannot totally blame on being a Vampire. More than anything else, I detest myself for having failed you as a man."

Continuing, I said "I cannot turn back the clock, unring the bill or right the wrongs I have committed in the past, but I can, if you will let me, be here for you in this latest crisis stemming from your connection to my world. However, for me to be able to help you, you have to trust me. The only way you will trust me is if I tell you the truth. I have resolved to never lie to you again. I have resolved to tell you what I know, when I know it. I have learned that keeping information from you is not only dangerous for you, it encourages your distrust. You have my word that I will assist you in any way I can, I will tell you the truth and I will protect you to the best of my ability."

My words had not finished echoing in the car before Sookie spat out her derisive response," Yeah, yeah. I've heard all that before. I lived all that with you, remember?"

"Yes, you did and I do remember. Every detail…I remember every detail. However, I have one more thing to say. May I?"

Heaving a small sigh, she said, "Sure. Why not? Bring it on."

"Sookie, Eric asked me to look out for you. If he has to go to Oklahoma, he does not want to leave you unprotected and without an ally. "

"Why, in heavens name would Eric ask you to see about me when you have been open about your distaste for our relationship making no secret of wanting me to break it off with him?" she asked heatedly.

"Because he knows that I will do whatever it takes to stand between you and whatever harm heads toward you. He knows that while I might not like him, I respect him and he knows that de Castro trusts me. I don't always agree with Eric's methods, but I almost always concur with his reasons for his actions.

"Sookie, Eric's independence and freedom are as essential to his existence as the air that you breathe is to yours. Under Madden's leadership, Eric was overseen, micromanaged, and baited. His people and his livelihood were threatened and harassed and Felipe de Castro was either unwilling or unable to rein Madden in. Now he has been sold by his maker to Freyda of Oklahoma and his King has backed him into a corner to make sure it happens. With all of that, in what surely must be one of his last official acts as Sheriff of Area 5, he summoned me to ask me to protect you and act as your intermediary if your telepathic services are requested by anyone. He would not have asked this of me if he did not trust me. I am asking you to do the same."

Clearly shaken, Sookie asked "Why is Felipe de Castro so all fired anxious to lose his most efficient and profitable Sheriff to another state?"

Having spent time thinking about this very thing and concluding that like always in the Vampire world, it usually comes down to just one thing. Looking carefully at her, I said "I think that there are two possible reasons, both of them dealing with maintaining power rather than gaining power. First, with Madden out of the way, that leaves a void in Louisiana. Unless he neutralizes Eric, the possibility will always exist that Eric will wrest power away from him in Louisiana and possibly his entire kingdom."

"Eric has doesn't want to be king," she said.

"I know that, you know that and de Castro has been told that by Eric, but that does not mean that he believes it. He will always see Eric as a threat because he is older and a revered and skilled warrior whose people are loyal to him. The night of the takeover, every one of his people gathered at Fangtasia to willingly fight to the final death if Eric had ordered it. However there is another reason he is forcing Eric into this. While he might be able to make a deal with Eric to ensure his loyalty there is one thing he cannot control and that is the state of the national economy."

Continuing, I said, "The King's holdings in Nevada are in financial jeopardy. The recent economic downturn has left the entire state of Nevada in a precarious position. Nevada is second only to Rhode Island in economic distress with losses in tourism and rising unemployment. That is the reason I was in Nevada at the time Eric was summoned to stand before the King and how the King was also able to question me in the matter related to Madden's demise.

With a thoughtful look on her face, Sookie said, "Eric talked about "sharks in the water" and that de Castro was having financial issues making his kingdom seem weak, but what do you have to do with the state of the King's finances that he would call you to Nevada?" she asked.

"Like you, I am also an asset to de Castro's kingdom. My database has expanded in terms of the number of Vampires that I have cataloged and the potential uses for it have also grown. Its use as a marketing tool is just now being explored and De Castro wants to see what can done with the database to draw more Vampires, their human companions and pets to his hotels, restaurants and casinos. He has asked me to start working with his marketing and promotions department as a consultant."

As she sat there, I could almost hear the thoughts churning in her head before she said with a resigned tone, "Okay, I think I get it now. De Castro is trying to kill two birds with one shot. He removes what he sees as a potential threat by Eric in Louisiana by shipping him off to Oklahoma to pacify Freyda, who may be plotting a takeover of de Castro's kingdom. Is that about it?"

"Yes," I said, "that's exactly it."

With a note of despair she asked, "So, where does that leave me?"

Sookie used to call this kind of information the "big bad." "Essentially it leaves you as unattached asset of de Castro's kingdom. With the dissolution of your marriage, you no longer belong to Eric and he is neither responsible for you or to you in the Vampire world. You have de Castro's promise to continue to protect you, but officially you have no single person or Vampire to represent your interests. This is one of the reasons why Eric asked me to look after you."

Continuing, I said, "You should also know that Eric has made financial and property arrangements for you. Some of these will take effect when he marries Oklahoma and others will take effect when or if he meets his final death."

Angrily she said, "Do tell. All of this sounds vaguely familiar, Bill. You were going to pension me off when you went back to Lorena, and it appears that Eric is trying to do the same thing. Is this some kind of Vampire conscience-clearing thing? Even if it is, I don't want Eric's money or property. That leaves the bottom line the same now as it was then. It leaves me alone."

"If you wish it, you have me." Sookie shook her head and looked away from me again.

We rode along for a while with Sookie deep in thought and awash in misery, anger and resentment. Finally she said, "Bill I cannot process this, make a plan of what to do or even think straight until I see Eric."

Knowing that this was coming, I said, "Sookie, you cannot see Eric. For all intents and purposes he is on lockdown. If you try to see him and are caught it will endanger you, make the King angry and lead to possible negative consequences for Eric, and make a miserable situation worse."

As we pulled onto Hummingbird Road, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and a stubborn set to her jaw before she said, "Bill, I have to see Eric. How much worse could this possibly be for me or for him? Just sitting here and taking it is not going to happen. If you can't work with me on this, then I don't know what else I can expect you to do with me or for me. If you won't go with me I will go alone. I am working the dinner shift tomorrow night so I can't go then, but you can be certain that I'll be on the road to Shreveport on Thursday night whether you go with me or not."

As the car came to a stop in front of her house, she leveled a very hard look in my direction. Then with a note of both resolve and finality in her voice, she delivered her parting shot, "You have twenty four hours to make up your mind."

And with that she got out of the car and walked away.

Postscript: We'll get to see Eric in the next chapter! YUM!


	4. Chapter 4: Preparations

AN: I've had lots of readers, but alas very few reviewers. Thank you, thank you to those of you who read, alert and favorite, but all my hugs and kisses go to those of you who take a minute or two to write a review.

One more thing and then on with the story: I really wanted to do the entire story through Bill's eyes. I found that I could not give the depth of detail that I wanted if I stuck with that. So, some of the events of this chapter will be seen through Sookie's eyes. Will some of you please let me know how I do in capturing her "book" voice? I would be most appreciative.

**Previously…**

_As we pulled onto Hummingbird Road, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and a stubborn set to her jaw before she said, "Bill, I have to see Eric. How much worse could this possibly be for me or for him? Just sitting here and taking it is not going to happen. If you can't work with me on this, then I don't know what else I can expect you to do with me or for me. If you won't go with me I will go alone. I am working the dinner shift tomorrow night so I can't go then, but you can be certain that I'll be on the road to Shreveport on Thursday night whether you go with me or not."_

_As the car came to a stop in front of her house, she leveled a very hard look in my direction. Then with a note of both resolve and finality in her voice, she delivered her parting shot, "You have twenty four hours to make up your mind."_

_And with that she got out of the car and walked away._

I'd half expected Bill to come into Merlotte's last night to let me know if he was going with me to Fangtasia tonight, but he never showed up. I checked the voice mail on my cell phone before I went to work the lunch shift today hoping that he had called after I went to bed last night. No messages. By that time I figured I was going alone. Still, when I got home from work and my Wal-Mart run, I checked my answering machine. Nothing. Of course, Bill was still at rest for the day, but I had hoped nevertheless.

The lunch shift had gone pretty smooth and pretty quick and before I knew it I was out the door of Merlotte's and on my way to Wal-Mart to get the things I needed to put the finishing touches on my outfit for tonight. Between Tara, Wal-Mart and some things from my own closet, I was as ready for tonight as I could be.

I'd come home to get ready still hoping that I would hear from Bill right after dark, but still nothing. Oh well. I guess this was pushing the envelope of his idea of looking out for me. Still, I have to say I was a bit surprised. I had thought that Bill would make the effort to support me in this even if he didn't agree. Lord knows he had done so in the past by taking me to Fangtasia when Jason was in trouble and then escorting me to Dallas on Eric's business. He had been against both of those, but had gone along anyway. I guess this was the last straw and he wanted no part of it. While I might not have been violating the King's order specifically, what I was planning is definitely in the realm of violating the spirit and intent of his orders. In my book, since he didn't tell me I couldn't see Eric, I didn't see any reason why I shouldn't go on with my plan as sketchy as it might be.

I gave myself a last onceover in the hallway mirror and smiled grimly at myself. I could only imagine what Pam would say if she could see me now. I hoped that this get up would be enough to get me into Fangtasia without being recognized. I didn't know if Eric's guards would be on the lookout for me or not, but I thought it best to not go looking like myself. I didn't even want to think what Eric would say if I got close enough to him for him to recognize me. I didn't know if he would laugh out loud or throw me out, but it didn't matter, I was going to see him tonight come hell or high water. I just hoped that Pam would be working the door and checking IDs. If it was anyone else, it could mean trouble.

Grabbing my keys, purse, and as much of my courage as I could find, I headed out the back door.

I was leaning against the car that I had parked next to Sookie's Malibu when I saw her come out the back door. The person I was seeing had short black hair and was wearing a black tank top, black jeans and knee high stiletto boots. All of it tight enough to look like it had been spray painted on her body while her generous breast were certainly testing the stretch and durability of the black cotton tank top. Her eyes were heavily rimmed with black eyeliner and false eyelashes, her lips were blood red and her nails were painted black. Her fangbanger chic outfit was topped off by enormous gold hoop earrings and a black leather, studded dog collar. She had gone to great lengths to fit right in with the fangbangers at Fangtasia.

"Sookie?" I said questioningly.

"'I'd about given up on you Bill. I expected to hear something from you last night."

"I didn't want to call and tell you I would accompany you until I knew more of what you would be walking in to. I spend last night on the phone with Pam and Maxwell trying to find out as much as I could about how Eric is being guarded. The phone calls had to be handled in such a way that we could not talk about it directly. Pam is convinced that her calls are being monitored. After what I found out, I am pretty tempted to physically restrain you, if I have to, to keep you from going tonight."

Feeling the anger swell in her and watching her face tighten, she launched into her tirade, "Don't. Even. Think about it Bill Compton. I am going to see Eric whether you go with me or not. You might be able to hold me tonight, but I will make damn sure that it will be the last time you keep from anything. You cannot watch me every minute and I will find a way to see him. Now get out of my way."

She tried to push past me to get to her car and I grabbed her arm. As she tried to snatch her arm away I continued to hold on saying, "Wait a minute Sookie. Calm down. I didn't say I wasn't going, I just said I was tempted to try to keep you from going and if you will think for a minute you might want to consider the consequences of this little adventure. Are you interested in what I found out?"

As she took a deep breath, I let go of her arm. "First," I said, "Eric is under continuous surveillance. He is working in his office because his physical appearance is noticeably changed from what the fangbangers are used to. Pam is concerned that it will draw undue attention and with the competition from Madden's club, Vampire's Kiss she is worried that revenues will continue to fall. Since he is not sitting in his chair in the club, he works in his office under the direct scrutiny of his guards. One stands at the door of his office and the other sits on the sofa inside. Given that, how do you think you are going to get in to see Eric? If you try to get past his guards then you may be recognized and that would be bad for both you and Eric. You, because you could anger the King sufficiently that he could withdraw his protection or he could simply commandeer you to Las Vegas to keep you away from Eric. It is a risk for Eric because it could rain further punishment down on his head. Finally, whether I agreed with his methods or not, his actions in creating the bond and your marriage were designed to keep you as free as possible from Andres's, Victor's and de Castros's control. Think about how he is going to feel if you are spirited away from your home because you could not stay away from him. Are these risks you are willing to take not only for yourself, but also for him just to verify that what I have told you is true?"

Looking both chastened and haunted, she said, "Bill, it really isn't about that anymore. It is about seeing him again and having an opportunity to see if this is really the end for us. I know you don't want to hear this, but I do love him and I can't just let him go without at least talking to him even if it is just for a few minutes."

Continuing she said, "Besides, you know how things were between us the night of that business with Madden. While I will never get used to the violence that seems to be the solution to most everything in your world, I cannot help plan and execute a murder and then continue to be shocked at how awful it is when we are successful. Eric and I really haven't had an opportunity to talk through that since he was called to Nevada so soon afterward. Things were not good between us before he left and I cannot leave this unsettled between us even if he is forced to marry Oklahoma."

This whole scenario had an eerie ring of familiarity. Sookie had risked herself to come after me after I had left her for Lorena only to end up being betrayed by her. I know firsthand that when Sookie loves, she loves deeply and that she would do whatever it took to get to Eric even if it meant that would be the last time she saw him. Eric had helped her that time, and while I hated to admit it, I didn't see how I couldn't try to return the favor. I didn't think that there would be any rescue of Eric as there had been for me, but if she did get to see him it might give her some measure of peace. Maybe that was the best we could hope for.

"All right, Sookie, but you can't just go in there blindly." Gesturing to the rental car I said, "Here, I've rented a car for you to drive because every employee at Fangtasia knows your car and I don't want anyone mentioning your name or calling you by name at the club. I also want you to give me a one hour head start and then follow me in this car unless you get a text from me saying that it is too dangerous to come. I plan to get there ahead of you to try to get the lay of the land and I want you to promise me that you will turn around and not come if I text you that it is too dangerous."

She seemed to search my eyes for evidence of deceit or subterfuge, but finally said, "All right, but I want you to get on the way now so that I have plenty of time to try to get to Eric if at all possible."

"Sookie, don't blow off my concerns. I am serious, you are playing with fire. Can I trust you to turn around and come home if I text you that it is too dangerous?"

Impatiently she said, "I said okay. Now get going."

Before I go, I had to ask, "Where did you get that getup?"

She gave me a genuine smile and asked, "Do you like it? Do you think I'll be less noticeable than the first time you took me to Fangtasia? I borrowed the wig and boots from Tara and the clothes are from my closet even if they are too small. I can barely breathe in these jeans. The rest came from Wal-Mart. The collar came from the pet department." She said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and said, "Do I like it? No. I dislike seeing your natural beauty hidden by such thick make-up and cheap trappings. Do I think you will blend in? Yes. I just hope I will be able to see Pam's reaction when she sees you. Because I had to guard our conversation last night, she does not know you are coming, but she probably suspects something is up."

She favored me with a genuine laugh and said, "You always did want me to wear feminine skirts and pretty blouses, Bill. I guess this really isn't your style. Now get going and be careful when you get there."

As I handed over the keys to the rental, a Ford Taurus, she reached up to cup my right cheek in her palm as she gave me a kiss on my left. Looking into my eyes with sincere affection she said, "Thank you, Bill. I know you're worried and don't think this is a good idea. That just makes me appreciate you all that much more. I'll be careful. I promise."

"I will hold you to it, I said. See you there." I turned to walk across the cemetery to get my car.

As I drove toward Fangtasia, all I could think about was the number of times Sookie had saved me. She had saved me from the drainers, from Lorena and from meeting the final death at Rhodes. I just hoped that I didn't have to try to do the same for her tonight because the odds were not in our favor.

Postscript: Okay, so I didn't get to Eric in this chapter as I thought I would. I PROMISE that our favorite Viking will be in the next chapter. I have the next chapter outlined and should be able to post before the end of the week.


	5. Chapter 5: Fangtasia

**AN:** I am so sorry for the delay in posting Chapter 5, but family vacation and work threw the inevitable delays into my writing schedule. Hopefully I will be able to post the remaining chapters more regularly.

Yippee! I have a beta and her penname is **joyindenver.** I am already grateful for her input, advice and beta skills as this story continues. You'll just have to trust me when I say that this chapter is _'SO'_ much better for having been beta'ed by Joy.

My special thanks go to all the reviewers who have made constructive comments and have asked really good questions. Your reviews do matter as they keep me honest, make me a better writer, and this a better story. I try to reply to all reviews and hate that I can't for those of you who have disabled your PMs. Please know that I appreciate you all.

**Previously…**

_As I handed over the keys to the rental, a Ford Taurus, she reached up to cup my right cheek in her palm as she gave me a kiss on my left. Looking into my eyes with sincere affection she said, "Thank you, Bill. I know you're worried and don't think this is a good idea. That just makes me appreciate you all that much more. I'll be careful. I promise."_

"_I will hold you to it, I said. See you there." I turned to walk across the cemetery to get my car._

_As I drove toward Fangtasia, all I could think about was the number of times Sookie had saved me. She had saved me from the drainers, from Lorena and from meeting the final death at Rhodes. I just hoped that I didn't have to try to do the same for her tonight because the odds were not in our favor._

As I pulled into Fantasia's parking lot, I noticed that there seemed to be fewer cars in the parking lot and the usual line at the door was missing. Pam had mentioned that business was down and she was concerned about the impact of Vampire's Kiss on Fangtasia's revenues. Perhaps it was still a bit early for the usual Fangtasia crowd, but I could see that she had the right to worry.

As I walked through the door, I spotted Pam dressed in latex and lace; what she called _'fangbanger chic._' She was leaning against the bar talking to one of the bartenders and behind her usual façade of boredom I sensed a wary vigilance and tension coupled with what, on a human, would be called fatigue. I knew that she had been solely responsible for Area 5 and Fangtasia while Eric was in Nevada and upon his return she continued a higher than normal level of responsibility. That, coupled with her general concern over Eric, seemed to be taking its toll. In the best of times she and I might be described as dispassionate acquaintances, but I both understood and felt some consideration for her situation. It appeared that both Sookie and Pam would pay the price associated with the political intrigue surrounding Eric.

It took her a moment before she spotted me and began to work her way in my direction through the smaller than normal crowd of Vampires, fangbangers, and tourists seeking a walk on the wild side.

"Bill," she acknowledged as she walked up to me.

"Pam," I responded in kind.

"Alone tonight, Bill?"

'_Not for long,'_ I thought to myself.

Knowing that we could be overheard by de Castro's Vampires, I answered instead, "Yes." Looking at her squarely in the eye conveying as much as I could in my response, I said, "I am alone."

Taking an equal moment before responding, she said, "How fortuitous. Maxwell was supposed to serve _'Vampire enthrallment duty'_ tonight, but is going to be late. I need you to take his place in Eric's chair."

I couldn't be sure that she understood who else would be arriving in the club tonight, and I worried that this would prevent me from keeping an eye on Sookie when she arrived. Leveling another hard look at her I said, "Pam, I do not think that is a good idea. You have said yourself that I do not have the _'look'_ expected by the usual clientele."

"Of course you don't Bill. With the way you dress, you look like a tax accountant or school principal. You are a fairly attractive guy, but you definitely dress to _**un**_impress. With that jacket and shirt that you have buttoned nearly to your throat, you look like you are on the way to do a Federal tax audit. All that's missing is a pocket protector and briefcase. Come with me. I'll see what I can do to fix you up."

With that she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, Eric's office, and the storerooms. We passed by Eric's office where the door was closed with one of his two guards standing resolutely in front of it. The guard made eye contact with me and pointedly watched our progress as we made our way down the hall.

She pulled me into the nearby storeroom. It was obviously her dressing area as it was occupied with a small table littered with her make-up and illuminated by a small Hollywood style mirror. Once out of the guard's line of sight, I turned to her and silently mouthed. _'Sookie is coming here tonight.'_

Her face hardened and her body stiffened as she said, "Here, take off your jacket and roll the sleeves of your shirt up to your forearms." As she helped me out of my jacket she whispered directly and emphatically in my ear in a voice that was more hiss than speech, _'She cannot do that. She will endanger herself and Eric. You have to stop her.'_ There was a wall standing between us and the guard and loud music from the club filtering down the hallway, but I still felt terribly exposed and hoped that these would be enough to muffle Pam's voice.

Putting my mouth directly on her ear and speaking rapidly, I replied, _'I tried to dissuade her. I don't think she will persist once she sees for herself how guarded Eric is. She is not stupid.' _The look on Pam's face told me that she wasn't convinced. Being this close to her, I could see more clearly than ever the effects of the stress she was experiencing. She carried her own concerns, but as Eric's child she would carry his as well.

She stepped back to look at me and heaved an unnecessary sigh. "Not enough," was all she said as she began to unbutton my shirt and pull it out slightly from the waistband of my slacks. As she worked, she looked directly at me and mouthed, _'How long?' _

I mouthed back to her, _'Maybe an hour.'_

When she had unbuttoned all but two of the buttons on my white dress shirt, she stepped back and said, "Better, but still not enough."

Spinning me around, she pushed me down in the seat of the chair in front of her make-up table. She reached behind me to retrieve something from the tabletop and said, "Close your eyes."

"What are you doing?" I asked, slightly alarmed and more than a little uncomfortable. Time was flying by and I wanted this over with so that I could be out in the club when Sookie arrived. I decided it would be better to just let her do what she thought necessary to make me _'presentable' _to the bar's customers.

As she worked on lining my eyes, she whispered, _'Do we have a plan?'_

'_Nothing specific,'_ I whispered in return silently praying that we would not be overheard.

She stopped what she was doing for a moment to look at me before saying, "Trust me." As she stretched each of my upper eyelids downward and to one side, first one then the other, I felt sure she was talking about Sookie rather than what the effects of her ministrations might be.

"Now, open your eyes wide." As I did so, she used what I assumed was an eye pencil to put eyeliner on my lower lids. I was beginning to wonder what I'd gotten myself into.

Finally, she said, "Almost done. I just need to do something with that banker's hair style you've got."

As she leaned forward to reach behind me, she whispered, _'Keep an eye on me and be ready.' _She straightened up holding small tube of something and squirted a small amount of clear gel on her hands before rubbing them together. She stepped back giving me one more look before she put both of her hands in my hair and began combing them through quickly and roughly. As she finished that she began to tweak out individual pieces of my hair. Finally, she stepped back one last time before saying, "There. That's the best I can do with what I have. You are no Eric, but you are somewhat better than Maxwell Lee. Go look at yourself in my mirror."

I gave her a questioning look, not knowing if I should be flattered or insulted, as I stood and walked up to her full length mirror hanging on the end of one of the storage shelves. I was slightly shocked by what I saw. In less than 10 minutes, Pam had transformed my usual conservative look into something that looked a little more in keeping with what I thought of as _'trendy.' _The eyeliner, while definitely not my style, was subtle and made my blue eyes stand out. The gelled spiky look to my hair coupled with the open and slightly untucked shirt gave me a rakish look…more punk than principal.

Standing behind me she gave me a long look of assessment in the mirror. "Wait," she said. "I have one more thing to add." She zipped out of the room and came back quickly holding a belt in her hand. "Take off your belt," she said.

Reluctantly, I did as she said. She began to thread the replacement belt through the loops on my black slacks. It was made from black stingray skins with a long dull gold belt buckle that looked like raised and interlocking square puzzle pieces. This was obviously a belt from Eric's elaborate collection. While it wasn't my style and fit slightly loose, I could see why Pam had chosen it. The stingray skin's black nubby texture combined with the inset white diamond pattern was just stylish enough to make me look a little more rock star and little less bank manager.

Taking a final long considering look, Pam said, "Not bad Bill. You could be really attractive if you would dress a little less like a nerd." Continuing with her trademark smirk firmly in place, she said, "If I didn't know you as I do, I might even be attracted to you myself. Oh, one last thing: take off your socks."

As I sat back down to take off my socks, I looked up at her and mouthed the words, _'Are you ready?'_ and then said aloud, "I don't think we really have to worry about you being attracted to me Pam, and besides, you are not my type." I gave her a small smile hoping she would feel my gratitude for her willingness to take the risk to get Sookie in to see Eric. Her first loyalties would always be to him, but Sookie was also her friend and I knew she was feeling a great deal of conflict.

Too worried to smile back, she gave me a quick nod, and then feigned laughter as she said, "Oh don't worry, Bill. As I said, I _'know'_ you and you are definitely not my type either. Come on."

As ready as I would ever be to get this debacle on the road, we left the storeroom and walked down the hallway. As we neared Eric's office, the door opened. His guard turned around and inclined his head to him as he stepped aside to let Eric pass through the door.

Standing in front of us, Eric said, "Bill."

"Sheriff," I said in response. I was surprised to see that Eric's physical appearance did not look very much improved from the last time I saw him more than a week ago. His neck and wrists still showed the silver burns, his skin was slightly gray, and his hair looked dull, but it was the look on his face and in his eyes that troubled me the most. I had never imagined that I would see Eric Northman look cornered.

His voice sounded normal, but his face showed the weight of his years. He asked, "I understand that you are replacing Maxwell Lee on duty tonight. Is that correct?"

Pam spoke up, "Bill agreed to fill in just until Maxwell gets here. I expect him sometime around midnight."

Eric leveled his gaze on Pam before saying, "Tell Maxwell Lee that I am not pleased that he did not show up at his appointed time tonight and that it should not happen again."

Her voice was subdued, as she replied, "Yes, Eric."

Turning to me again Eric said, "I see that Pam has had her way with you as this is a very different look for you, Bill. I guess it remains to be seen whether it works for the customers or not. While I appreciate your willingness to fill in for Maxwell at the last minute, try to remember that you are to _'enthrall' _the customers tonight, not bore them to death." As he spoke notes of condescension and disdain rang through his words, but his eyes conveyed only weary resignation.

While Eric and I would never be friends, if such a thing was possible among Vampires, the contrast between his words and his eyes told me that this had been, at least in part, a performance for the guards' benefit. About half way through his comments to me, Pam's hand reached out to lightly take hold of my left wrist. I wasn't sure if she was readying herself to restrain me or seeking some measure of comfort.

Scanning me from head to toe in one last hard look and glancing briefly at Pam, he nodded his head once and returned to his office. The guard, who had stood behind Eric openly listening to the entire exchange, resumed his place in front of the door before fixing his eyes on Pam and me in a clear indication of dismissal.

Pam took my arm and walked with me into the club whispering quietly, _'Thank you.'_ As I was seated in the chair, she said, "Look like you are accustomed to doing this, and for God's sake don't sit in that chair like you are in church. Slouch and try to look bored and menacing at the same time. This will be a stretch for you, but try. That is what the paying customers come for.

"It is up to you if you wish to feed from any of the proffered bloodbags. If you do choose to indulge, please do so out of site of the customers. The rules regarding feeding on the premises still apply. You'll be free to go once Maxwell arrives." As she turned to go, I caught her wrist, "Why is Eric not healing?"

Anguish flashed briefly across her face as she answered, "He won't feed."

After taking a few steps, she turned back to me with her mask of boredom firmly in place, "Oh, by the way, don't forget to return the belt. It is one of Eric's favorites."

Alone on Eric's 'throne,' I was left to suffer watchful waiting in anticipation of Sookie's arrival. I mulled over various scenarios of what could go wrong and how I might handle it. The list of disasters was lengthy; the list of possible responses was frighteningly short and violent. The only real plan I could muster was just to be ready to get between Sookie and whatever hornet's nest she might disturb. Meager as it was that was all I had at the moment.

As I scanned the club, I noticed that a few people were dancing to the music coming through the speakers from KDED. While the number of _'vermin',_ as Pam liked to call them, was greater than when I first came in, the overall mood in the club was a bit subdued. I have to say that I was glad about that as I wanted to be able to keep a lookout for Sookie without too much distraction.

I had been seated in the center of the club for about twenty minutes when I spotted her in the short line at the front door. She couldn't have waited more than thirty minutes before getting in the car to drive to Fangtasia; so much for waiting to let me check out the club before she came. As much as I still loved her, her impetuousness would be something I would never get accustomed to.

I continued to watch her draw nearer to the entrance in the periphery of my vision until I was interrupted by a twenty-something girl asking for my autograph. She also wanted a photograph, but I refused that. I had been hoping I would not be approached while in Eric's chair. She had no sooner gone away when several tourists by-passed the entry line with tickets from one of Shreveport's Vampire Tours. Their nervously giddy entrance was distracting and annoying.

Finally, Sookie got to Pam. To her credit, Pam appeared to put her through the same inspection routine as any other customer entering the club. I could tell that she recognized Sookie, because of the slight stiffening of her posture when Sookie came to stand fully in front of her. After just a few moments, Pam nodded her through to the main room of the club.

I watched as she made her way to the bar. She had drawn the attention of one or two of the Vampires when she came in, and several of the humans had noticed her. She might be able to disguise herself with hair color and clothing, but she still presented a very desirable package. One of the regular Vampires to the bar approached Sookie and asked to buy her a drink. She politely declined, but continued to talk to the Vampire as he leaned against the bar. She placed her drink order and when it arrived, she lifted looked like a strawberry daiquiri to her lips. It seemed that she was maintaining her disguise even in her choice of drinks.

As I continued to observe Sookie, I began to notice that Pam had moved one of the waitresses to door duty and that she was walking throughout the club talking to various patrons. All of those with whom she spoke were human and she was glamouring them one by one. I could only imagine that this was some part of her plan to deal with Sookie's presence in the club.

Meanwhile, Sookie was playing the part of the titillated fangbanger with the Vampire at the bar. She was smiling broadly, giggling, and occasionally touching the his arm. It was a knife to my gut to see her act like that even if it was part of her _'disguise.'_ I did not know this Vampire well, but I had never noticed or heard of him creating trouble in the bar. However, Vampires only came to Fangtasia for two reasons: one, Eric requires it, and two, to access the ready pool of those willing to be a Vampire's nightly feed and fuck.

The tall dark-haired Vampire asked her to dance. She smiled her acceptance. Lightly touching her elbow, he escorted her to the dance floor where they began to dance to _Death_, a song I remembered that Sookie liked by a group called White Lies. It was a fast song, and she and her partner were dancing well and easily together. When the song ended, Sookie excused herself and headed toward the hall that led past Eric's office and toward the restrooms. Instantly a sinking feeling filled my stomach. My fingers tightly clutched arms of the throne. Every nerve ending in my body went on high alert. I knew she was desperate to see Eric, but my instincts screamed for me to stop her. I knew if I did she would never forgive me for whisking her out of harm's way. A sense of dread, oppressive and suffocating, pressed against me, as I watched her disappear into the dimly lit hallway. I strained to hear her footsteps, hoping she would keep a check on her emotions and not act irrationally.

My eyes scanned the bar for Pam. I found her and willed her to look in my direction until finally her gaze met my own. Reading the alarm in my eyes she swiftly moved into the hallway. _'Good girl.'_ Her movements were so quick, she was only a blur.

A fraction of a moment later, Sookie reappeared, unharmed. If I had been a breather, I would have heaved a sigh of relief. My eyes studied her as she made a beeline to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. _'This was bad.'_ Up to now she had done an excellent job at keeping up her disguise. By ordering her classic drink, I knew her shell was beginning to crack. If I could make all her pain, fear, and disappointment vanish, I wouldn't hesitate, even if it meant she would never be mine. Her safety and her happiness were all that mattered to me.

Sookie's Vampire dance partner returned to her side, but even though she smiled as she spoke, whatever she said to him as she glanced in my direction, seemed to discourage him. He nodded to her politely and left her side.

Observing Sookie, tracking Pam and scanning the club at the same time was a proving to be a test of my Vampire abilities. Pam was on the move again with two young girls in her wake. Both were dressed to invite Vampire attention and seemed excited to be in Pam's company. Pam, with the girls in tow, approached Sookie. They each spoke, careful not to give each other special recognition. Sookie appeared to grow more excited and giggly, very un-Sookielike, at whatever Pam was telling her. I was fairly sure I knew Pam's plan as the next thing I saw was Pam taking her little coterie of fangbangers, including Sookie, in the direction of Eric's office.

As the little group progressed toward the back of the club, a young girl, probably twenty-one or twenty-two came up to my chair and said, "Master, if it pleases you, would you drink from me?"

I was stunned. I have fed from many people, but this is the first time someone had so blatantly offered themselves to me in public. I knew that Eric was accustomed to this, but it was a foreign and unwelcome experience for me. As I was about to reject her, another woman slightly older came to make the same offer. "Master, my blood is rich and I have been told it is delicious. Would you drink from me?"

She was soon followed by a college boy whose slurred plea was, "Master, it would be m' pleasure to be your meal t'night. I 've had a buncha' drinks, so if you wanna' getta' buzz you'll get it from me."

A fourth man, fortyish and well dressed, joined the crowd growing at my feet, saying as he bowed, "Master, please drink from me. It would be my honor."

I was desperate to make them go away so that I could be ready when Sookie was discovered by Eric's guards, which I was positive would happen, but the throng continued to grow. A fifth, sixth and seventh supplicant came forth all with a variation of the same plea. _'Master it would be my honor. Please feed from me.' _I found myself becoming quietly frantic.

I scanned the club to find Pam and found her minus her little group of fangbangers and Sookie. She was in the back positioned watchfully between the clamor of the club and the brink of disaster in the back. When an older woman, dressed in short pants, flowered top, and what looked like orthopedic shoes came up to me, I knew with certainty the purpose of Pam's glamour. The throng growing at my feet was meant to be a distraction. This woman was evidence of Pam's sense of humor still intact and I could only imagine how many more were going to approach me.

Then all hell broke loose.

The supplicants began pushing and shoving among themselves to get my attention. In the loudest possible voice, I said, "Stop it! I will feed from none of you! Move away from me. Now!" My shouts and commands seemed to make no difference. The louder I shouted, the more they pushed in on me.

As I stood up from my chair and tried to push my way through them, they began to cling to my wrists and legs, pulling me closer and closer toward them. I was effectively being sucked into this frenzied mob. It was like a bad horror movie, but instead of being the monster in this little tableau, I was the victim. I looked over their heads and met Pam's gaze. She was amused.

Pam waded in to the hoard and began pulling people away from me rather ineffectually as they continued to press in on me. Lips brushed my neck and sides of my face in wet, open mouthed kisses. Hands were caressing my body and pulling at my clothes. The combined smell of their perfumes and body odor was overpowering and the more I resisted, the more persistent they became. As I considered using the considerable strength I had to repel them, I hesitated. I knew injuries would result. Suddenly Pam disappeared into the back of the club leaving me alone with the mob.

The next thing I knew, the frenzied mass began to disperse as they were forcibly pulled away from me by both of Eric's guards working in tandem. There were a few who took a little longer to remove than others, with the older woman in orthopedic shoes being the most difficult as she had both of her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I could tell that the guards were trying hard not to hurt her or the drunken college boy who was clinging to my right leg. I pried her hands off me and the larger of the two guards picked her up and carried her outside the club. The boy was the last to go as the remaining guard unwrapped his fingers from the death grip he had on my pant leg. The guard caught my eye and smirked as he escorted the boy out. Freed, I was finally able to look around to see if Sookie had returned from the back of the club.

She was not in sight but Pam was back in position near the back of the club in a posture of high alert. Suddenly she turned and moved back toward Eric's office. She returned moments later holding Sookie firmly by her right arm marching her smartly toward the club entrance and out into the parking lot, the heels of Pam's pumps and Sookie's boots beating a staccato across the floor.

Out of habit I took inventory of Sookie. I could see puncture wounds on her neck. Her limp, unfocused gaze was that of a battle weary soldier who has seen too much, experienced too much and lost too much. I could not take my eyes off of her as she walked as if in a trance with no fight left in her. I could only imagine what had happened between her and Eric. He hadn't spared her anything about his situation and its ramifications.

The noise of the club faded away as I focused on the Sookie's retreating back. To all appearances Sookie looked like any common fangbanger who had been used and tossed aside. My hands balled into fists and my jaw tightened causing my fangs to pierce my tongue filling my mouth with blood. In that moment, I hated Eric more than I ever had.

A few minutes later Pam returned with Maxwell Lee in tow. She came toward me with a sly grin on her face and asked, "How does it feel to be a rock star?" But as she looked more closely at my face she looked slightly taken aback by what must have been a darkly pained expression on my face. Perhaps she had been expecting to see only relief painted there because disaster had been averted…at least for tonight.

I looked at her and said, "We need to talk."

Her only response was, "Not now. Why don't you go home? I am sure you've had enough excitement for one night." She turned on her heels and headed toward the entrance to relieve the waitress checking IDs. I'd been effectively dismissed, and as I looked carefully at her face I saw only the same bland expression that she usually wore.

I would not be getting nothing more from Pam tonight, so I did the only thing I could. I headed to her dressing room and changed my clothes. I needed to go find Sookie.

Relieved from my 'enthrallment' duties, I tallied the several outcomes of the night's adventures. I realized that Pam had come through tonight by executing a plan that kept us all alive even if it left Sookie devastated. It was also clear that if Eric loses Sookie, so will Pam. Sookie is as near to a real friend that Pam has had in a very long time and that loss would be very hard for them both. I also realized that while Sookie might be down for now, she will persist in trying to _'save'_ Eric regardless of the consequences to her safety and their relationship.

Finally, of all the revelations from tonight's escapades, the most potent was that despite how much I loved Sookie, she may never love me again as she loved Eric.


	6. Chapter 6: Caution

**AN: **Thank you again to my hugely talented and _VERY_ _PATIENT_beta, **joyindenver.** If you are still with me and enjoyed the last chapter, then you need to thank her every bit as much as me. It came out of her beta-machine a far cry better than it went in. Hugs, kisses, and Band-Aids for your fingers, Joy!

This is a shorter chapter than the last one and if you are still with me, you know that this is Sookie's story told solely through Bill's eyes. To the legions of Eric fans out there, please understand that this story is not being written and told through Bill's eyes to "dis" Eric. I like Eric and think he is dead sexy and sexy dead, but I think Charlaine Harris opened some new doors for Bill, Sookie, _and_ Eric in Dead Reckoning. That is what this story and its possible sequel(s) will be about: those new doors and to what I think they might lead. So, if I am entertaining you, then stick with me and review, review, review.

**Disclaimer:** All Charlaine's all the time. I just borrow them and then return them in good condition.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

_I would not be getting anything more from Pam tonight, so I did the only thing I could. I headed to her dressing room and changed my clothes. I needed to go find Sookie._

_Relieved from my 'enthrallment' duties, I tallied the several outcomes of the night's adventures. I realized that Pam had come through tonight by executing a plan that kept us all alive even if it left Sookie devastated. It was also clear that if Eric loses Sookie, so will Pam. Sookie is as near to a real friend that Pam has had in a very long time and that loss would be very hard for them both. I also realized that while Sookie might be down for now, she will persist in trying to 'save' Eric regardless of the consequences to her safety and their relationship._

_Finally, of all the revelations from tonight's escapades, the most potent was that despite how much I loved Sookie,__she may never love me again as she loved Eric. _

* * *

><p>As I drove to the front of Sookie's house I wasn't surprised, even at this hour, to see a light on in her bedroom. She was still up, but whether or not she would allow me to talk to her remained to be seen.<p>

I walked up onto her porch and knocked. After waiting a few moments and getting no response, I knocked again; still no response. Just as I turned to leave, her porch light came on, and the front door opened. She was standing behind the screen door barefooted and in her nightgown and robe. The swollen, scrubbed raw look of her eyes showed all the anguish that had been hiding behind that vacant stare as she left the club.

"What do you want, Bill?"

"I came to check on you. Are you alright?"

"No."

"May I come in?"

"No."

"We should talk, Sookie."

"I'm sure we should Bill, but it won't be tonight. I've had all I can take for one night. Please. Just go. I want to go to bed."

"I'll call on you tomorrow."

In a bleak tone that spoke volumes of hurt, loss and bitterness, she said, "Rather fateful words if you ask me Bill. It was similar words, spoken by you, that led me to where I am tonight. It seems that allowing Vampires to _'call on me' _does nothing but get me into a world of hurt. So what do you think, should I allow you to '_call on me?' _

Understanding her hurt, but knowing that she must come to understand the urgency of the situation, I pressed, "Sookie there is nothing I can say that is going to make what happened tonight go away, nor can I stop what is coming, but we _**must**_ talk about it. You must understand what is coming and be ready for it. I may not able to heal your heart, but I can help you prepare and I can be with you as a friend, advocate and advisor if you wish it.

As she said nothing, and continued to just look at me my mind was reeling with all the possible ways that Sookie's innate stubbornness and impetuousness could lead her into disaster. Somehow I had to make her understand that she was dealing with some very dangerous beings in a very precarious situation. De Castro would brook no interference. His economic and political vulnerability, coupled with the vague threat of a coup from the Queen of Oklahoma, provided sufficient pressure to encourage the King to personally deliver Eric to her side. Any attempt on Sookie's part to get in the center of that terrible triumvirate would be catastrophic.

"What's coming?" She asked as she wrapped her arms around herself as if she was preparing for a physical blow.

I could feel the fatigue and anguish rolling off of her in waves, but she needed to know what lay ahead: "Mr. Cataliades' visit. He will be representing both Eric and the King; _**they**_are his clients, not you or your best interests."

She continued to search my face, and I could see the effort she was making to hold herself together. Her face was drawn and her shoulders were tense as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Seeing her apprehension and pain made me more determined to never to let her down. Quietly, she said, "I work swing shift tomorrow. You can come here when I get home sometime around 11:30."

Relieved that she wasn't simply trying to avoid the conversation and hoping to give her some small measure of comfort, I continued, "I know that this is unspeakably difficult for you. I will do whatever I can to help you in any way possible."

She sighed deeply. "I know you will, Bill. Her voice, reflected the utter fatigue in her eyes as she said, I just can't deal with anything more tonight. Good night."

I stayed standing on her porch as she closed the door and turned off the porch light. I heard her footsteps as she made her way across the wooden floors leading into her kitchen, and then the sound of the water as it filled her drinking glass. A hard thump reverberated as the old water pipes adjusted to the sudden change in pressure when she turned off the faucet. The sharp creaks of the old stairs signaled her ascent to her bedroom, but could just as easily have been the sound of her heart breaking bit by bit. I hoped that sleep would take her quickly so that she would get some relief, however brief, from the effects of tonight's events as well as the rest she would need for what was coming.

I waited near the rental car until the light went out in Sookie's bedroom and then drove home. Enterprise Rental would pick up the car tomorrow and since they had my credit card number the invoice was already paid. These mundane details of our trip to Fangtasia were settled. I would need the remaining hours of the night to figure out how to help Sookie deal with the fallout of what she had learned from Eric tonight and the events of the days to come. Finally, knowing her as I did, if she persisted in trying to 'rescue' Eric I would need a plan to stop her.

At 11:15 the next evening I was sitting in one of the wicker chairs on Sookie's front porch. I was certain that Eric's guards had reported to the King that Eric had fed. His feeding would accelerate the healing process and thus facilitate the end of his and Sookie's marriage, so I wanted to be here when she got home to begin the conversation I knew we must have regarding Mr. Cataliades' visit.

The demon attorney had been contracted by the King to act as his official emissary to explain the terms of Sookie's continued protection, future work for the kingdom, and the general outline of the process to end her marriage to Eric. The timing of his visit was connected to Eric's healing and being _'presentable'_ for his marriage to Freyda of Oklahoma. According to Eric, Freyda had been angry that his body bore physical manifestations of the King's punishment and not wanting _'damaged goods,'_ she had held off on her demands to secure Eric as her consort until he healed. With the accelerated healing, I was certain Sookie would receive a visit from the attorney sometime in the next week and the ceremony ending their marriage would take place soon after. I felt the painful irony in all of this.

I was also fairly certain that the King did not know of Eric's provisions to ensure Sookie's financial future and that Cataliades had been the one to make the arrangements per Eric's specifications. He might be a demon, but he was also an attorney and confidentiality rules would have prevented him from disclosing this information to the King. Mr. Cataliades was an essentially kind being, but I knew that his necessary detachment in bringing these issues to Sookie would add another wound to her heart.

As I ruminated on Cataliades' impending visit and the events of the last few weeks, I saw Sookie's old Malibu come up the drive. I waved to her as she drove around the house to park in the back. About five minutes later, the front porch light came on, and the front door opened. Sookie pushed open the screen door and held it for me as she said, "Come in, Bill. Why didn't you wait around back?"

"I wanted to give you a few minutes to yourself, but I also wanted to be here early enough to have our talk in case you are tired."

Walking ahead of me into the kitchen, she replied in a toneless voice, "I am tired. I am also angry, frustrated, hurt and alone. And that's just the short list." Saying nothing more, she reached into the refrigerator, pulled out a blood for me and a soda for herself. She put the blood in the microwave and poured her soda over ice. The hum of the microwave was the only sound in the room as she tipped her head back to take a long swallow. The rhythmic movement of her throat drew my gaze and made me remember all the times my lips had been there.

Absentmindedly she set the empty glass down as the microwave dinged. She removed the bottle, shook it slightly and asked, "Bottle or glass?"

"Bottle is fine," I said. She extended the bottle toward me and as I took it reached for her other hand, "You are not alone. I will be here for you for as long as you want me."

Looking fully at me but offering no comment on my declaration, she removed her hand from mine. "Do you want to know what happened between me and Eric last night?"

Did I want to know? Did I need to know? I didn't answer her; not yet. As I followed her into the living room, I finally said, "I will listen to whatever you have to tell me, Sookie." I may not like what she was about to share, but I promised to be here for her, and I would regardless. "I was quite frankly surprised that you were able to see him without being discovered. Without Pam's help I am sure you would not have succeeded."

"Ah, Pam." Sookie reached for that awful afghan and neatly folded it across the back. Taking her seat, she motioned me toward a chair next to the sofa. "I think she is just as upset and miserable as I am."

"I know she is," I said, remembering the look on Pam's face and the tension in her body as she worked on my appearance the night before.

"What kind of plan did Pam cook up to get me back to see Eric?" she asked. I had the feeling she wanted to delay the inevitable conversation.

"She had me sit in Eric's chair and then glamoured several humans to fight over my attentions to create a distraction for the guards while you were in Eric's office," I replied without going into great detail.

With a trace of a smile in her voice, she asked, "That sounds like something Pam would do. What was that like, Bill? Having people fighting over you?"

"Well," I paused thoughtfully. "I think I provided Pam with the most amusement that she has had in a while."

"I can imagine. You sure looked different last night. Was that Pam's doing too?"

"Oh yes." I was hoping that sharing my _'makeover'_ story might lighten the mood for just a bit. "My appearance is another object of fun for Pam. She felt she needed to get me ready to _'enthrall the vermin'_ so she adjusted my clothes, lined my eyes with eyeliner, gelled my hair, and put one of Eric's belts on me." I gave Sookie a humorous smirk with just a trace of conceit. "I think I looked very rakish."

A small smile lit her face. "Yeah, I saw you. I thought it was a good club look. You were very handsome." Sookie took a quiet breath. Her eyes were fixed on her glass.

There was a stretch of silence. It seemed to be the end of Sookie's interest in last night's adventure. She yawned. It was time for the hard part of the evenings' agenda.

"Do you want to tell me about your meeting with Eric?"

Looking away from me, she fixed her gaze on some distant spot beyond the floor. "I was afraid of him," she whispered. "For the first time since we've been together, I was afraid of him." Her hand quickly swept across her face. I couldn't see her face, but I was certain that she was crying.

I wasn't sure if it was my own anguish at seeing her like this, or if it was her pain or both that filled the space between us. Without thinking, I moved to kneel in front of her and took both of her hands in mine.

"Tell me."

She wouldn't look at me, but she allowed me to hold her hands while she gathered herself. "Pam brought us into his office. Told Eric had to feed because he was needed on his throne."

"The guard was on the sofa. Eric sensed me, I think. He told Pam to go away. He didn't want to drink from us." Her eyes closed tightly. When her eyes opened again she appeared to scan the room without seeing, before stopping in her lap where they seemed to focus on the hem of her black shorts. "When he looked up…it took everything I had not to cry when I saw how bad he looked."

"Sookie." I moved to sit beside her on the couch. I held her right hand. "He _**will**_ heal."

"Shouldn't he have healed by now?" She turned abruptly and looked at me. Her eyes were teary. "It's been over two weeks."

"Pam told me that he has been refusing to feed. He has been subsisting on True Blood."

"I am fairly sure that his refusal to feed is his desire to put off his marriage to Oklahoma for as long as possible." She needed to know some of what Eric had told me when I met with him. "Freyda was angry with De Castro for delaying their marriage by allowing his punishment of Eric to mar his body."

Looking perplexed, Sookie asked, "What does that have to do with anything? Did she consider him _'damaged goods'?"_

"When Eric told me of his situation, those were his words exactly," I responded.

"Wow," she said tonelessly.

"Were you and Eric able to talk at all?"

"Not much." She averted her eyes for a fraction. "When Pam kept insisting that he feed, he finally got up from his desk and came to inspect us. He sized me up. I wasn't sure if he recognized me. Finally he told Pam to take the other two out. That I would _'do.' _Her body stiffened next to me. He was very rough and the bite hurt." He fed on me for only a minute or two before Pam came back in a rush saying that she needed help in the club. Eric told the guard to go, but he didn't want to. That he wasn't supposed to leave. His fangs had run out. I think he was enjoying watching Eric feed on me. Or maybe he thought he would get a turn." Still focusing on that distant spot, Sookie shuddered slightly.

"Eric insisted," she continued. "The guard finally went with Pam and took his buddy with him. We were alone then. Eric shoved me away, yelled at me for coming, and told me that there was nothing he could or would do." Sookie drew her hand away. "He said that this would finish what I started when I broke the bond and that I would be finally rid of him. Told me I should be glad. He wouldn't let me talk." She clutched her hands together. "He told me to get the hell out of his office," she whispered. I could hear the suffering in her voice and felt myself go rigid with anger. "He called for Pam. I guess we had a total of five or six minutes before Pam came to get me. She escorted me to my car and told me to go home and not to come back. She was upset that I risked Eric's neck with my stupidity."

The knife that had slid into my gut at the club was twisting mercilessly. While I might understand Eric's possible motivations for such behavior, I found that I could scarcely stomach its effects on Sookie. Tamping down my fury, I focused on Sookie. "What do you think was the reason for his behavior?"

She looked up at me, eyes bright with anger and grief. "I imagine that he wanted me to get the message that we're _**done."**_

"Perhaps, but I also think it might be that he _**wants**_ you to be angry. He might think that his cruelty was a kindness."

"A kindness? Her voice was sharp as it rose in stark disbelief.

"Yes." I said. "He may think that if you are angry it will help insulate you just a bit when you have to face him and De Castro as your marriage ends. You might not feel the pain so badly." Her brow wrinkled slightly as she studied me. "I know that Eric still cares for you, but he is caught between the machinations of his maker, an ambitious and grasping Queen, and an economically weak and politically suspicious King seeking to preserve his kingdom. He really is in a precarious situation."

"This has a ring of familiarity to me, Bill" Her tone was caustic.

I winced. "I can only imagine that it does," I said. "While I was not at the same level of influence as Eric when I went back to Lorena, I had something that someone else wanted. It didn't take me long to figure out that my maker called me to satisfy the ambitions of a King. I know you have learned by now that as Vampires, most of us are just pawns used to satisfy someone else's objectives and plans. We may appear to the human public as strong, invincible, and in control, but the reality is that, within our own society, we are at the mercy of our _'betters',_ and the higher up we go on the political food chain the more significant the consequences for failure to fall in line as expected. Eric's age, reputation, and status as a successful long-serving Sheriff put him pretty high on that food chain."

As I spoke, my voice had grown louder and my tone more bitter. Eric's current predicament mirrored much of my own with Lorena in Russell Edgington's mansion in Mississippi. While my feelings for Eric ranged from dislike to hatred, and I despised his treatment of Sookie, I could empathize with the feeling of helplessness that the loss of autonomy brings.

Sookie's head had dropped into her hands. She sat like that at such length and was so quietly that I could hear her heartbeat and the sound of her breathing over the gentle settling of the old house. Finally, her head snapped up and she found my eyes with a look of stubborn determination dominating her face.

"What if I just refuse to end my marriage to Eric?"

Not surprised by her question all I could say was, "I can only imagine what some of the consequences might be, but I think you need to hear Mr. Cataliades out before you decide on anything. You have to be smart about this Sookie. I will not allow you to endanger yourself or Eric uselessly."

She inhaled sharply. "You won't _**allow**_ me?" she shouted. "Who do you think you are?" She was mad to say the least. "Are you seriously telling me to just roll over? Would you have wanted someone to stop me when it was you in Lorena's grasp?"

I rose to stand by the fireplace as I felt my own frustration starting to rise. Working to ignore it and with as much calm and reason as I could inject into my voice, I replied, "The answers are 'No' and 'Yes,' in that order." She glared at me, her face slightly tightened in confusion. "_**No**_, I am not telling you to _'roll over.' _I am asking you to wait until Mr. Cataliades has had his say. You cannot just go into this blindly refusing to end your marriage with Eric until you are fully apprised of the consequences to you and to him. Eric has asked me to protect you and I _**will**_ do that. "And _**yes**_, I would have told you not to attempt my rescue from Lorena, and I would have applauded anyone who stopped you, because of the almost certain potential for losing you. What good would my life have been if you had rescued me and then died in the process? I have no doubt that Eric has had the same conversation with himself and wants you as far away from him as possible once your marriage is ended. He wants you to go on with your life as quickly and quietly as possible to make sure you stay safe under the King's protection. That is why he asked me to look out for you and offer as much assistance, guidance, and protection as possible, so that you can live in relative comfort and safety." I felt myself beginning lose the battle to hold my frustrations in check. "Are you _**really**_ willing to throw his concerns and sacrifices to the wind like that? If not for your own good, consider Eric's and wait until after you talk to Mr. Cataliades."

Throughout my increasingly emphatic monologue the play of emotions across Sookie's very expressive face was astonishing. Raging anger warred with tentative hope, typical stubbornness wrestled with considered thoughtfulness, and finally mutinous refusal gave way to tentative acquiescence. She leaded against the sofa cushions and her body relaxed slightly as something seemed to settle within her.

Sighing with relief wasn't something I did often, but it certainly felt right to do so now. "So, will you at least wait until you talk to Mr. Cataliades before you plan to anything rash?" I asked.

She waited several heartbeats before answering. "The most I will agree to is to meet with him and listen to what he has to say. Beyond that I cannot make any promises. But Bill, you need to understand. If I can do something to stop this I will. When exactly do you think this meeting is supposed to happen?"

I couldn't ask for more. After all, this was Sookie. Still feeling relived, I sat down next to her again and took her hand,

"It is my understanding that this is to supersede Mr. Cataliades' other cases and responsibilities. So, I expect you will hear something within the next few days, certainly within the week. I'll be here with you at the meeting."

Sookie turned to look at me fully, searching for something in my expression or in my eyes that would give her reason not to trust me. Whatever she saw apparently satisfied her. "Alright," she said. "When he calls, I'll set the appointment so that you can be there. I will probably need another set of ears to hear everything that he has to say."

All at once the fatigue of a nine hour shift and the emotional stress of our meeting seemed to settle in on her; she was exhausted and needed to get to bed. Giving her hand a light squeeze, I stood up to leave.

"You are tired and need to get some rest," I said. "Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?"

Standing up with me, she put her hand on my left arm, and said, "No Bill, thank you and you are right I _**am**_tired. I know I don't always act like it, but I am glad you are here to at least discuss this with me. Left on my own I probably would have gone crazy or done something I shouldn't have, and I am not saying that I still won't. I don't always agree with you, but you are a good friend and you're just trying to keep me out of trouble."

I laughed a little and pulled her into my arms for a quick hug. "Right now that is my main priority," I told her. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Continuing to rest her hands on my forearms, she said, "I work breakfast and lunch tomorrow and I need to do some grocery shopping, but I should be home by the time you rise."

Pleased that we had passed this small hurdle with little rancor and no bloodshed, I said simply, "Good enough. I will see you tomorrow." I quickly kissed her on the cheek and took my leave.

Walking to my car, I thought about Sookie and how she loves. I do not like Eric and Sookie together and I do not think Eric is right for her. But, for reasons that are not wholly clear to me, Sookie loves him with her whole heart. She knows no other way. She had loved _**me**_ with everything she had. My hope for her lay in the fact that when I left her and then betrayed her, _**she did not break.**_ The coming days would test her strength to face the end of her marriage to Eric and my resolve to protect her.


	7. Chapter 7: Dissolution

**AN:** Thank you **joyindenver** for being so thoughtful and thorough in reading my work. This chapter is almost twice as long as the last chapter and proved difficult to write. You made it much better and are without parallel in 'beta-dom.' Thank you for helping me be a better writer.

Thanks also to all who have read, reviewed, alerted and favorited. Please know how much I appreciate all of you and I will consider it a milestone if I reach 100 reviews before this story is finished.

If you recognize a character's name, remember that Charlaine Harris is mother to them all.

**Previously…**

_Pleased that we had passed this small hurdle with little rancor and no bloodshed, I said simply, "Good enough. I will see you tomorrow." I quickly kissed her on the cheek and took my leave._

_Walking to my car, I thought about Sookie and how she loves. I do not like Eric and Sookie together and I do not think Eric is right for her. But, for reasons that are not wholly clear to me, Sookie loves him with her whole heart. She knows no other way. She had loved __**me**__ with everything she had. My hope for her lay in the fact that when I left her and then betrayed her, __**she did not break.**__ The coming days would test her strength to face the end of her marriage to Eric and my resolve to protect her._

I had been right about King de Castro's intention to move quickly on ending Eric's and Sookie's marriage as soon as Eric had began to heal properly. A few days after my conversation with Sookie about her meeting with Eric at Fangtasia, we both received a call asking us to meet with Mr. Cataliades at Sookie's home. The lawyer showed up, briefcase in hand with various agreements and arrangements for both Sookie and I to consider. We were sitting at Sookie's kitchen table as Mr. Cataliades began to pull file folders out of his briefcase one by one.

"King de Castro," addressing Sookie, the demon lawyer began, "Is most pleased to continue his protection of you and looks forward to a long and fruitful relationship in the years to come." He laid out forms in front of us. "The King is certain that you understand how important it is that we all cooperate in making these negotiations and proceedings go smoothly."

Cataliades' emphasis on the words _'certain' _and _'cooperate' _earned a roll of her eyes and what can only be described as a disdainful snort from Sookie. Listening to her, all I could think was,"_Uh Oh."_ Her stubbornness and I were old acquaintances. _"Tonight might be a long night."_

Surprisingly, and in fairly short order, Sookie agreed to a graduated contract for her telepathic services to the king and the agreement to ensure my role as her representative and escort should she have to travel to perform those services. Without Eric's protection, I had half expected de Castro to pressure Sookie to relocate to Nevada, but as it turned out, the contract's financial rewards were generous and reflected her desire to remain in Louisiana and in her own home. It was also flexible enough to allow her to continue working at Merlotte's. The offers showed the great respect that the King held for Sookie.

Just about the time that I thought we would get through the meeting quickly and with little acrimony, Cataliades' last agenda item raised Sookie's righteous indignation to shatter the peace of the early fall evening. Even without sensitive hearing my ears would have rung from the rushing torrent of her outrage.

"What do you mean Eric wants to give me a financial settlement?" She was outraged. Her body vibrated angrily. It was like watching a beehive that had been disturbed. "Two million dollars!" The chair shrieked as she stood up. "He must be out of his mind! I have no intention of accepting any money from Eric or anyone else, let alone two million dollars. You can tell Eric Northman that I do not want his money. I didn't want it or expect it when we were together and I sure don't want it now."

Cataliades had held his hands up, palms out in the universal sign for peace."Miss Stackhouse, please, hear me out!" he insisted. "Mr. Northman simply wants to make sure that you are able to stay in your own home comfortably and without worry. Surely you can't fault him for that?" He was desperate to placate her.

Sookie's sharp intake of breath coupled with words drowning in venom left no doubt as to how she felt about Eric's offer. "I repeat: I will not accept money from Eric. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not next week, next month, or next year. I do not want it, I do not need it, and I will not accept it!"

The demon looked down at his stack of papers his chubby hands working in a flurry of straightening his pens, adjusting his glasses, and running his hand down the front of his tie, as if straightening himself and his tools would calm Sookie and get her to agree to the settlement without verbal or physical bloodshed.

"Miss Stackhouse."He had very nearly come to pleading with her."Mr. Northman was very insistent that you should have this money. I do not want to risk his displeasure if I am unable to come to some agreement with you. Is there anything I can do to persuade you to accept his very generous offer to ensure your future?"

Sookie's face took on a pinched look as she gathered herself for another verbal barrage. "You…," she stopped suddenly and stared at him so deeply in thought for so long that Cataliades shifted nervously in his seat with a wide-eyed look of apprehension firmly affixed to his face. I had no idea what she was thinking, or what would come out of her mouth when she chose to speak again.

"Yes," she said quietly as her eyes focused on the table top. She took her seat. "There is something you can do. I have had no opportunity to speak to Eric about any of this." Her body suddenly seemed smaller as she crossed her arms over herself; her voice carried notes of sadness and confusion as if for the first time she really understood the reality of both her situation and Eric's. "In a very short period of time I have gone from being married to Eric by Vampire custom to being negotiated with and _'bought off to end the marriage.'_" Her voice trailed off miserably.

Suddenly she sat up straighter, her voice taking on a harder and more commanding tone as she said, "I won't consider any kind of settlement from Eric until I have had an opportunity to speak to him in person and in private. If you can arrange that I will agree to _'consider'_ a settlement offer."Her voice placed hard emphasis on the word consider.

"_Oh Sookie," _I thought to myself._ "Only you would demand the one thing that de Castro has applied exhaustive efforts to keep from happening." _Aloud I said,"Sookie, I don't think the King will ever go for that." Mr. Cataliades looked at me gratefully and shook his head in agreement.

"Miss Stackhouse—"

"I appreciate the position you are in Mr. Cataliades,"Sookie cut him off before he could go on. Sympathetically she said,"I have to see Eric. Get me in to see him privately, and I will consider a settlement offer." The set of her mouth and her unwavering gaze were a study in determination.

As that long night wore on with many attempts at negotiation, the demon lawyer finally realized that at least for Sookie, this was a nonnegotiable request, and he reluctantly agreed to speak to the King and see if he would give his approval for a private meeting.

A few days later, we were in my car heading into Shreveport. In the passenger seat next me, Sookie vibrated with nervous energy as her knee bounced rapidly up and down. Her stiff shoulders were turned slightly away from me and her attention seemed fixed on the passing scenery out of the passenger window. She alternated between twisting the end of a strand of hair in her fingers, clasping her hands together in her lap or digging through her purse. Her persistent edgy motion was beginning to wear on me as I found myself shifting in my seat and gripping the steering wheel tightly as I drove.

I needed to get her talking. "What are you thinking?" I asked. The only sound, aside from her heartbeat and the thudding of her leg, was her chewing on a nail. "Sookie?" I wasn't sure if she heard me or not. I considered asking her again when she finally spoke.

"I wonder if Pam will be there," she said absently. "Do you think she will?"

"It would seem unlikely that under the circumstances that she would be."

"You're probably right." With a deep sigh she turned and continued to gaze out of the window. Her bouncing leg never stopped.

"I will be with you the entire time," I assured her.

"What if Eric refuses to see me?"

"If he does refuse, I'm sure he will have a good reason."

Sookie huffed. Abruptly she turned in the seat. Her finger jabbed the power button on the radio. It came alive with a shriek and startled us both. Her lips were moving wordlessly; needlessly, she was likely uttering something unpleasant by the creases on her brow. I sighed deeply. I was doing a lot of that lately. My gaze darted between her and the road. The radio seemed to be receiving the brunt of her agitation. It was a good thing she only had the strength of a human. Otherwise, her violent jabs may have broken the radio.

"Do you think Eric's marriage to Oklahoma will be a hundred year deal like Mississippi and Indiana?"

"Yes," I answered her question, making my voice as gentle as possible. "Vampire marriages are a hundred years. It's the standard."

"Will Eric have to stop being Sheriff of Area 5?" She didn't pause for me to answer. Her words seemed to spill at the same speed as her bouncing leg. "If he does, would Pam take his place or will they make Pam go to Oklahoma with Eric?"

"I do not know," I replied. This was all new territory for me as well. "I am not certain on the details of their marriage contract."

"I'm asking what _you_ think Bill." Her voice was forceful.

"Well…I. Umm." Her leg stopped moving as she turned in her seat to look at me. I wasn't sure if the stillness that overcame her was a good sign or not. "Vampire marriages are not like human marriages. They are business arrangements; a consolidation of power. Each vampire typically continues with their separate lives, only coming together to consummate the contract once each year."

She stared at me. Her expression was unreadable. "Do you think she will allow Eric to continue with his separate life?"

I exhaled loudly again. "I don't know, Sookie." The conversation was going into an arena of speculation I did not want us traveling. "I'm not sure of anything I've said." I took the last turn that would lead us to the parking lot of Cataliades' offices. "We'll have to wait and see."

Sookie's jaw tightened. Her attention turned to my poor radio again. The bouncing leg resumed its frantic rhythm.

The hectic, stress-laden week had finally gotten us to this point. I pulled the car into the parking garage and took the first spot I found.

"Ready?" I asked cutting the car engine off.

"Oh Bill." Sookie reached across the seat and gripped my hand. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know if I _can_ do this."

"You'll get through it Sookie." I sounded confident and it was sincere. She was strong and resilient.

Silently, we walked into the demon lawyer's office. Sookie's death grip on my hand never let up. We stood, like gawking tourists, in the reception area. I had always pictured Cataliades as a leather and mahogany kind of lawyer, but the reception area was bright and uncluttered with clean lined modern furniture. Surprisingly, it was not unwelcoming as I had often found modern design to be. The entire office seemed very spacious and very open. Glass walls separated the reception area from a large common work area and still more clear glass walls created several private offices, a separate large conference room, and a law library. You could see from the front entrance of the office suite straight through to the conference room at the furthest point away. The back wall of the conference room was a large glass window wall that looked out on to downtown Shreveport and the river beyond. It was very open and I was sure it would be very bright in the daylight.

Sookie suddenly stiffened at my side. Concerned, I turned my attention to her. She was staring straight ahead. I followed her gaze. Eric. He had entered the conference room.

"I hope you didn't find the office hard to find," the demon lawyer greeted us. The three of us exchanged the customary pleasantries, until it was time for Sookie to have her private meeting with Eric. The tasteful wall clock read 8:15.

"You'll do fine." I assured Sookie. She smiled tentatively at me. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and then released her. I watched her walk across the now empty open work area, slowly at first and then more quickly as she neared the open conference room door. Her rush to get here and her slight hesitation before entering proved to me that she was a mess of both anticipation and anxiety.

Continuing to watch her, I was brought back to the events of the past week. I had been shocked when Sookie told me that Cataliades called her to let her know that the King had reluctantly _agreed_ to allow a brief period of time alone with Eric with two conditions: one, that it take place immediately before the meeting to confirm her earlier agreements, and two, that she agree to accept a financial settlement offer. My shock deepened when she told me that she had _countered_ back to King de Castro that she expected no more than fifteen minutes and that having it before the meeting was fine, but she would not agree to accept a financial settlement, she would only _consider _one. Shaking my head at the memory, I knew she was the only human I had ever known with the temerity to make demands of a Vampire King and then have the audacity to _'counteroffer'_ his initial reluctant agreement. Even at risk of losing King de Castro's proffered protection and good will, she had been determined to get what she wanted and was willing to pressure a Vampire King to get it.

I suppose I really shouldn't have been shocked given her past courage and willingness to take self-sacrificing risks on my behalf as well as Eric's. I just hoped her courage would carry her through this evening and her risk-taking behavior would be somewhat muted. Much would depend on how she reacted to tonight's events.

Sookie was fully inside the conference room now and had closed the door behind her. Eric's back was to her as he stood looking out the windows. She continued to stand near the conference room door, and I could hear her muffled voice as she called Eric's name; he gave no indication that he was aware of her or perhaps he was simply choosing to ignore her. Either way, he did not turn to greet her.

She walked briskly to his side and stood looking out the window with him, but because her back was fully toward me, I could not see if she was speaking. Sookie turned to look at Eric who continued to stand rigidly erect, perfectly still and looking straight ahead like a store mannequin dressed in a very expensive, well tailored suit. She was speaking rapidly; close enough so that her head was pitched back to look up at him; her stiff back and clenched fists gave testimony to the depth of her anger and anguish. At one point she reached out to place her hand on Eric's arm, and I saw him glance down at her hand and then at her face before stepping out of her reach. His mouth never opened to speak to her. With rising anxiety, I slid forward to sit on the edge of the reception room sofa, my hands clutching the edges of the cushions.

I felt a painful constriction in my chest as he retreated from her and she continued to follow him, her voice rising as she tried to speak with him. Suddenly her hand darted out to catch the sleeve of his jacket. She clutched it fiercely, tugging it hard to turn him to face her. In a flash, Eric snapped and turned on her. I had seen that look before. A frisson of fear swept through me as I leapt to my feet, but before I could take my first step, he grabbed her by her upper arms yanking her up until she was scrambling for purchase with the tips of her toes, her face only inches from his. His face came down to meet hers with fangs fully extended and he bore the look of a man who was not to be disobeyed. He began to shake her as he spoke. His words were muted, but the intent of his actions was clear: _'Back off!'_

A low menacing growl echoed in my ears. A firm hand held my shoulder. I turned. It was the demon. The strain on his expression from his effort to restrain me, stayed me. It was then that I realized the dangerous growl was mine.

"Wait," he said. "The King promised Miss Stackhouse undisturbed time alone with Eric. He won't hurt her."

I whirled around on him and snarled, "You don't know that."

"Yes…I do." A look of sympathy softened his face. "Please, Mr. Compton…Bill…for both of their sakes, please stay out of it. It will not go well for either of them or you if you interfere." With a note of clear warning, he said, "We may not be able to hear what is being said, but _**others **_can. You need to stay out of that room until we go in together."

Choked with anger, frustration, and fear for Sookie I could only nod. Standing fixed in my spot, my attention returned to the glass walled conference room.

Sookie struggled to be let down, but the more she struggled, the harder he held her until he spun her around and lifted her up until her back was pressed against his chest. His long arms encased her upper body, pinning her arms to her sides in an iron grip. He leaned against the conference table and brought his right leg around trapping the two of hers against his left. Having her pinned like a rare, prized butterfly on a display board, he lowered his mouth to her ear. As I watched helplessly, her struggling finally began to lessen.

Suddenly Eric released her, and she stumbled forward into a conference room chair at the head of the table. He reached out to steady her, but released her quickly and took a step backward. He stood staring at her with all emotion wiped from his face and then turned on his heel and walked out of the conference room by a side door. Considering Cataliades' warning, I had no doubt that King de Castro was waiting on the other side. Sookie sank into one of the chairs and sat motionless, staring out of the windows overlooking the river.

Turning to Cataliades I asked, "Were you sent out here to keep me in line?"

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "Now come along, it is 8:28 and time for the meeting to start. King de Castro insists that we be punctual."

Looking back toward the conference room, Sookie was still in the chair at the head of the table, but she seemed to have folded in on herself. She was bent over clutching her stomach. Her hair fell forward to shield her face. "Sookie may need a few minutes," I told him.

Cataliades shook his head, "No, we need to get on with this." His quick glance in Sookie's direction revealed his own sadness about the task at hand. "A few minutes are not going to make a difference in how Miss Stackhouse deals with this, and the King is insistent that we rip the band-aid off quickly and efficiently. I am sure you understand the consequences for failing to accede to his wishes."

"Fine," I bit the word out. The emotions that had raged through me while watching Sookie with Eric merged with my own feelings of impotence in my inability to shield Sookie from heartbreak. The weight sat like boulders on my chest. Grasping for a way to suppress my feelings and not add to Sookie's burden, I felt myself trying to arrange my face into the most neutral expression possible as I approached her. She straightened up, but was sitting still as a stone staring at the door through which Eric had exited.

'_Don't let them break you.' _These words, like a mantra, ran through my head as I knelt in front of her. "Sookie, would you sit with me over here?"

Slowly she turned her head to focus on me and simply nodded; her eyes were dry, but held wide as if she was willing the tears not to fall. Offering my hand to help her stand, I guided her over to the right side of the table and pulled out a chair for her. Her anxiety was palpable as she smoothed her skirt with trembling hands before taking her seat. Her attention returned to the door through which Eric had exited. She tried to calm herself by clenching and unclenching her hands as they lay in her lap. I took her hand in mine and ran my thumb over the palm of her hand in slow circular motions in an attempt to sooth her.

Sookie flinched slightly as the side door opened and took her hand away to lay it back in her lap. King de Castro entered the room followed by Freyda, Queen of Oklahoma, Eric and Sandy Seacrest, the King's lieutenant, who was carrying a small stainless steel brief case in her right hand. King de Castro took his seat at the head of the table, his back to the plate glass windows. Cataliades was to his left and Eric was sitting next to him with his hands clasped together in front of him on the table's surface. Queen Freyda and Sandy sat next to each other at the opposite end of the table. Sookie and I were to the right of the King with Sookie directly across from Eric who was silent, looking unseeingly over Sookie's left shoulder at the wall behind her. His face was an absolute study in control as the room settled around him.

King de Castro remained standing and proceeded to greet Sookie and I effusively as if we were here to celebrate the closing of a long sought financial deal. "Miss Stackhouse, how lovely you look and how wonderful to see you again! Mr. Compton, thank you for being here tonight."

He continued making introductions as if Sookie and I didn't already know or know of everyone there. Saying nothing, Sookie simply looked at each person the King introduced. When he got to Freyda, she stared at her for several seconds with narrowed eyes, her mouth in a grim line as she listened to the King. "Miss Stackhouse, this is Her Majesty, Queen Freyda of Oklahoma."

I focused my attention on the Queen. Freyda was a stunningly beautiful woman, but she and Sookie could be a study in opposites. Where Sookie was blond, blue-eyed, tanned, and voluptuous, Freyda was raven haired with green eyes, very pale, slender, and supple. The information that I had collected for my database indicated that she was about 475 years old and had been born human in Germany in about 1538. She was made Vampire shortly after England's great earthquake in 1553. The original spelling of her name had been Freida, but she had chosen to change it to a more exotic spelling when she became Queen of the area that would become Oklahoma in 1771. While the details of her having become Queen were murky, her reputation was that of a cunning and strategic monarch who was ruthless in pursuit of her goals. If my suspicions were correct, she had her eyes set not only on Eric, but also de Castro's three-state kingdom.

"Miss Stackhouse, I have heard so much about you from King de Castro…and Eric, of course." This last was delivered with a sparkling smile on the Queen's face. "Of course I am aware of your bravery at Rhodes. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you in person. You are a great asset to King de Castro." Her comments were accompanied by an appraising and speculative gleam in her eyes as she looked at Sookie. "I hope that I will be fortunate to have a telepath as a part of my retinue one day." Her words were slyly suggestive as she turned her gaze to the king.

Sookie gave no verbal or visual reaction to Freyda's words. She simply turned her gaze back to Eric where it had been since they all entered the conference room.

The Queen's cunning comment raised alarms in my head, and I glanced around the room to register the varying responses. Eric's carefully neutral face contorted into that of a predator as his eyes narrowed and his body turned slightly to face Freyda. He looked ready to take her head off with the slightest provocation. Sandy was wide-eyed with astonishment as she watched her King for his reaction. The King had gone very still, fixing Freyda with a hard stare and a pinched expression on his face. His next comment was more subtext than substance. "Yes, Freyda, we are very proud of our Sookie and until you find your own telepath you will understand that the rarity of talents such as hers makes us _very _careful as to how and by whom they are used."

"Why Felipe," her voice a study in innocence, "I completely understand. You know of course that our casino operations are expanding rapidly in Oklahoma, and I may need her services as we hire new mangers and dealers. I find myself having to hire so much new personnel so quickly that my lieutenants don't have time to do the thorough background checks so necessary for people handling the vast amounts of money flowing through our casinos." The timbre of her voice had changed to a higher pitched, cajoling tone, "I am sure you understand that it would be so much easier if Sookie could just _'listen'_ to the interview candidates." Leaning forward slightly and gesturing toward Eric she said, "Eric and I will be very pleased to pay whatever you require for her services, and I am sure your sweet Sookie would like to work for us given her long association with him. Rest assured, we will take _very_ good care of her." She leaned back looking very pleased with herself.

And there it was: the Queen of Oklahoma had just managed to drive home the differences between their two monarchies. Her Realm was stable, prosperous, and growing, and she was about to take his most capable and profitable Sheriff to compete with and possibly overthrow his former King. King de Castro was faced with falling revenues as result of a faltering state and national economy and its impact on tourism and discretionary spending. The relative prosperity of Mississippi and Louisiana could not provide enough revenue to balance the drain of the King's faltering hotels and casinos. De Castro's kingdom seemed ripe for the taking and the bonus prize would be won when she maneuvered his best and rarest asset away from him.

My suspicions concerning the events of the last few weeks were confirmed. Eric's forced obligation to honor his deceased maker's marriage contract, the less severe punishment, the lockdown at Fangtasia, and the hurried insistence for the ending of Eric's and Sookie's marriage were de Castro's efforts to show that he was strong, in charge, and able to manipulate, order and coerce his subjects to his will. All of it should have functioned as a not too subtle reminder of his power to forestall a hinted at coup. Instead, his plan to appease Oklahoma might end up working to bring about his end and Sookie would be caught in the middle.

I don't know how much of this Sookie had paid attention to or even heard as she continued to sit quietly with her gaze fixed on Eric. I reached under the table to take hold of one of her hands and give it a light squeeze. She turned her head to look at me, her face devoid of all expression, but for the look in her eyes. The sadness was there for sure, but I was startled to see a strange mixture of hope and calculation there as well. She smiled slightly, returned my gesture of comfort and removed her hand from mine. Once again, her eyes were drawn like a magnet back to Eric. I was left to speculate about the thoughts, plans, and calculations churning in her head.

Mr. Cataliades cleared his throat. "Your Majesties, Mr. Northman, Miss Stackhouse, we have several items to review and Miss Stackhouses' financial settlement to discuss. Are we ready to begin?"

Sookie turned her head to look at the demon. Quietly and with almost no inflection in her voice, she asked, "Why is she here?" She turned to look at Freyda.

"To whom are you referring, my dear?" The King's irritated tone underlying an otherwise polite question, betrayed his surprise and annoyance at her question.

Sookie turned to look at the King. "The Queen of Oklahoma; why is she here?" There was no deference in her tone.

Leaning forward to catch Sookie's eyes, the King firmly replied, "Her Majesty is here as _**my guest**_, Miss Stackhouse." His exasperated reply was veiled in courtesy, but clearly indicated that he would tolerate very little more from her.

I stole a quick glance at Sookie and was relieved to see that she seemed to understand. She looked away and fastened her eyes upon Eric once again. For her, his face seemed to be the only tether holding her in this room.

Looking at Cataliades, the King barked, "Get on with it." The King's impatience was clearly evident as he sat back abruptly in his chair at the head of the table.

Moving with haste, Mr. Cataliades reached toward a stack of folders. One folder each was given to the King, Sookie, Eric and me. Opening the folder, I saw a copy of the general agreement for Sookie's services that Cataliades had discussed with Sookie in her home on Tuesday, a copy of the contract for my services, and a new financial settlement agreement from Eric.

I remembered the emotional firestorm on Tuesday as she had roundly rejected Eric's offer. It had been difficult for me to witness. I was reminded of my own attempts to see to her welfare when I left her to heed Lorena's call. My intentions had been sincere, but I did not factor in how Sookie would view it. Apparently, Eric had not learned from my mistake.

Eric's and Sookie's folders remained unopened in front of them as Mr. Cataliades began to run down the list of issues that had been discussed at her home on Tuesday evening.

"Just to be clear, I want to remind us all of what was discussed and the agreements that were made earlier this week," Mr. Cataliades explained. "First, Miss Stackhouse, you agreed to allow King de Castro to use your telepathic services on an as needed basis in exchange for a fee of $2,000 per day, per diem expenses, and adequate advance notice. Second, for a period of one year, Mr. Compton will act as your agent and escort when your telepathic services are requested for out of state use during that time. The salary for his service during this initial period will be paid by King de Castro. At the end of the one year period, you may negotiate with Mr. Compton to continue this service, choose another agent, or act as your own agent, but you will be expected to travel with a suitable escort. Because you will then pay for your own agent/escort, the day rate for your services will increase to $3,000 per day with per diem expenses. At no time will out-of-kingdom use of your services be allowed without the expressed approval of the King."

Throughout Cataliades litany of agreements, Sookie sat quietly, occasionally glancing at Cataliades, but most often continued to keep her eyes trained on Eric. She may have been paying attention to what was being said, but looked as if none of it seemed to make much of an impression on her. She looked very detached.

"Miss Stackhouse!" Unaware that Cataliades had called her name a second time, Sookie jumped slightly and with a sharp intake of her breath she blurted out, "Yes. Yes. I agreed to all of that."

The King smiled and nodded at Sookie as Cataliades went on. "Good. Now we need to address the issue of Mr. Northman's financial settlement in your behalf."

The words were barely out his mouth before Sookie erupted.

"Mr. Cataliades, I thought I made it clear that I do not want any financial _'settlement.'_" She said this last word derisively as if she had tasted something nasty. "I appreciate Mr. Northman's _'concern,_' but I do not want _**any**_ of his money. I have done nothing to earn his money and will not accept money being paid to clear a conscience." Taking a deep breath and scanning the room with her eyes, she added, "His or anyone else's."

Eric looked only slightly taken aback by her vehemence, but said nothing. I imagined that he had been expecting this reaction from her.

"Miss Stackhouse," de Castro said with barely concealed annoyance, "in exchange for a private conversation with Mr. Northman, you agreed to consider a proper financial arrangement. I expect you to honor your part of the agreement as I did mine."

Sookie opened her mouth to protest, but the King cut her off. "In the past, hasn't Mr. Northman provided you with things that have improved or maintained the quality of your life?" Not allowing for a response, he continued, "It has come to my attention that he replaced and improved your driveway and has replaced items in your home that were damaged by his actions from time to time often improving the quality of those items in the process. You have also accepted liberal payments for your telepathic services from Mr. Northman and most recently you have been his trusted companion. Mr. Northman's settlement offer is not _'conscience money'_; it is simply a way to say thank you for your past association with him and allow you to have the ability to continue providing for yourself without worry." Each item he listed had been accompanied by a tap of his finger on the tabletop.

His gaze continued to be fixed on Sookie as a smarmy smile slid across his face. "I believe that your own highly touted _'southern manners'_ would deem it ungracious to sit in this company and treat his generous offer so callously." His tone made no attempt to conceal the menace behind his words as he sat back in his chair with his gaze riveted to Sookie's face.

Throughout his speech, Sookie had directed her hot gaze at the King with an intensity that ignored everyone else in the room. I knew she was becoming angrier by the moment, and when Sookie is angry she sometimes loses her ability to filter or temper her words. In this setting, that failure could be disastrous. I reached under the table to take the hand clenched in her lap and squeezed it hard with the hope that she would be sufficiently distracted to come back to herself a bit.

No such luck; she shot a glare in my direction, snatched her hand out of mine and took a deep breath that seemed to suck all of the air out of the room.

I braced myself for the worst.

"_Your_ _Majesty_," she said with a hint of a sneer in her voice, "I am here, in this company, because you are requiring Eric to honor a contract made by his maker without his knowledge or consent. _**His**__**'dead' maker. **_ I am here, because to honor that contract, I have to be _'set aside.'_ I am here, because my being _'set aside'_ serves the purposes of everyone here other than me. So, don't tell me that my _'southern manners'_ should compel me to accept conscience money, because it is those same_ 'southern manners'_ that oblige me to tell you and everyone here to take that money and stick it where the sun will NEVER shine."

Her voice rose and became more vehement. "I took care of myself before Eric Northman entered my life, and I will continue to do so when he leaves it. Now if you have something for me to sign that deals with the issues we've discussed except this weak attempt to buy me off, then I will do so. Otherwise we are done."

Had I been human, I would have been holding my breath. In the midst of her angry speech, I took a surreptitious look around the room. Eric's eyes were focused on Sookie and his face had lost that detached look he had been wearing like armor. His eyes showed that he was clearly engaged in what Sookie had to say, and he appeared to be proud of her.

Mr. Cataliades was clearly nervous as he began his default stress management routine: shuffling papers back and forth, lining his pens up in straight rows and smoothing his tie. He'd certainly had practice in doing that the last few days.

Freyda, sat still watching the interplay between de Castro and Sookie with a look of amused surprise and a smile that broadened with each of Sookie's outbursts and rising vehemence. Sandy carried the same bland expression she always wore, but it appeared again that she was looking to de Castro for some kind of cue.

Finished with her impassioned speech, Sookie huffed, sat back in her chair, and crossed her arms defensively across her chest while the echo of her words died around us.

Clearing his throat, Cataliades began, "Miss Stackhouse—"

"Miss Stackhouse," King de Castro interrupted, his voice just shy of being a shout. "I find your manner and your comments extremely rude and disrespectful. However, I choose to move past that to recognize that this has been difficult for you and because I continue to respect you for previously rendered services and for your demonstrated talents that have proved both rare and useful." He was clearly referring to Sookie having saved his life and her work for Sophie Ann in Rhodes.

He continued to focus on Sookie with a hard glare. "However," he continued. "I will not tolerate disrespect for those who occupy this room and for actions that are intended to protect and provide for you. You are an asset of _**MY**_ kingdom, and I expect my assets to be maintained properly. Therefore you _**WILL**_ choose one of the two options that Mr. Cataliades will outline for you," he commanded. "And understand this Miss Stackhouse," his fangs snapped down and his voice leveled, "I _alone_ decide when we are done."

Glaring at the King, Sookie hissed, "I. Will. Not. Accept. Money. From. Eric. Northman."

'_Sookie, you are pushing too hard. Back off and shut up.'_ My instincts were screaming at me to clap my hand over her mouth.

"If you won't accept it from Eric," hissing as he glared right back at her, "then you will accept it from _**me.**_ Mr. Cataliades, explain the two options to Miss Stackhouse. The funding source is really irrelevant. Miss Stackhouse, you will _hold_ your temper. Be quiet, and listen!"

Throughout this heated exchange, Eric focused on Sookie as if he was trying to 'will' her to look at him. He understood, as Sookie did not, that she was being shown extraordinary leniency by the King. I was sure that he also understood, as I did, that the King's patience was not without limits and the raised eyebrows and amused expression on Freyda's face might hasten the end of that patience. The King would not allow himself to look like a fool in front of her.

As Mr. Cataliades picked up a sheaf of papers, Sookie opened her mouth getting ready to deliver some sharp retort.

"Your Majesties," I cut her off. "May I take Sookie out for a short break? I think things might be improved with a little cooling off." I desperately needed to speak to her alone; she was so wrapped up in her anger and righteous indignation that she wasn't thinking clearly. I was surprised to see Eric lean back in his chair and relax slightly as I made my request.

All eyes were trained on the King. In what would be considered a very human action, he heaved an exasperated sigh and looked away before saying, "Yes. _**PLEASE**_ do see to Miss Stackhouse. She definitely needs a 'time out.'"

Having been dismissed, I took firm hold of Sookie's arm, lifted her out of her chair, and guided her out of the room. "Bill…," she drew out my name through gritted teeth. She tried to yank her arm away glaring at me as we exited the room. I tightened my grip and quickly escorted her into the hallway outside Cataliades' offices.

Once we were out of view and hopefully out of earshot of the King and the others, I whirled Sookie around to face me. She was red faced with anger and loaded to let me have the full force of her temper. Before she could open her mouth, I put as much emphasis on my words as possible. I said, "Sookie!" I was sharp with her and very near to losing my own temper. "Be quiet and listen to me. Your continued welfare depends on it."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, but finally she gave one sharp nod of her head as she crossed her arms over her chest. Seizing what might be a very brief lull in the storm, I launched ahead, speaking rapidly, "Sookie, I know that at best all of this is unfair and at worst it is heartbreaking. I know how much Eric means to you, and I know how much you mean to him. This stubborn refusal to listen and consider any of the agreements on the financial settlement, as justified as it may be, will not work in your favor and will only bring more heartache to Eric." Her head snapped up and she focused on me.

"What do you mean more 'heartache for Eric? '

This financial settlement is as much for him as it is for you. Once he becomes Freyda's Consort he will not be able to offer you any form of personal assistance. He needs to know that you will be protected both financially and personally. He would have given you ten times that amount if he thought there was any chance you would take it."

As I spoke, Sookie's rigid stance softened slightly and the mutinous look on her face began to dissipate only to be replaced with the beginning of tears.

'_Great. Now comes the tears and the heartbreak.' _Part of me wanted her to cling to her anger if only to hold off the grief that I knew would wash over her once this was finished. However, I knew that I had to help her bring her emotions under control and I knew I didn't have long to do it.

Forging ahead, I said, "I looked ahead in the file. Cataliades has prepared a trust agreement that would put me in charge of the money Eric wants you to have. I would not be able to spend the money, but I would be able to make it available to you should you have need for it. I am sure the king sees this as a way to get you to accept the money without having to manage it or have anything to do with it if you choose."

Looking absolutely desolated, Sookie said, "Bill, I don't want Eric's money, and I sure don't want the King's money. I am _SO_ tired of being treated like a child that needs to be taken care of or a piece of equipment that needs to be stored properly until it is needed again. I feel used and I feel less of a person because of it. All of it infuriates me and makes me feel powerless. I am sick of feeling that way."

I felt the press of time as we continued to stand there. "Sookie, you have the ability to make choices not only about the financial agreement, but also about the way that you react to this entire situation. It may not be much power, but it is some and it is certainly more than most humans would be offered by a Vampire King."

Desperate to comfort her, but knowing she would not welcome it, I continued, "De Castro is being _very _lenient with you. Your outbursts, tone of voice, and general attitude would have earned you a harsh punishment from most other monarchs; Freyda comes immediately to mind. How do you think the King feels about the raised eyebrows and perpetual smirk that were plastered on Freyda's face during the entire exchange between you and him? Hmmm?"

I hoped letting her know what had gone on around her in that exchange between she and de Castro might shock her into being more cautious when we returned to the conference room.

Sookie's face paled and she looked away from me. Subdued and quiet, she said, "I suppose it made him look weak; like he can't control the humans in his _'retinue.'" _

Finally…she was beginning to understand the gravity of her situation and the implications of her outburst at de Castro. "Exactly," I said. "That is the very thing he wishes to avoid for all of the reasons that we have already discussed. Sookie, the thing that is wonderful about you is also the thing that may get you killed despite my best efforts or even Eric's best efforts."

"And what is that, Bill?" she snapped. "My track record as a doormat for every supernatural that I come across?"

Listening to that defensive and petulant response, I was torn between my desire to shake her or hug her. She had the singular ability to make me both murderously angry and stupidly adoring. I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss all of this away, but I knew that this was an approach that would be neither welcomed nor understood. So, I drew yet another breath and stuck to reasoned explanation.

"No," I answered; my voice gentle. "It is your ability to accept supernaturals for__who they are rather than what they are. You look at the person behind the being: the man rather than the vampire, wolf or shapeshifter. That tolerance draws us to you, but sometimes you forget that we _are___killers, our world is harsh and unforgiving, and you can be hurt by us. You need to remember that when you are dealing with us."

Her face was thoughtful as she considered my words.

Feeling that I finally had her complete attention, I continued. "De Castro respects you, but he is also anxious to conclude these negotiations so that he can go through the ceremony to end your marriage to Eric. Freyda has been pressing him to move on this and is here to witness it. He is _**NOT**_ going to put up with much more from you. Do you think we can go back in there and give him a respectfully worded decision about Eric's financial arrangements?"

"Do I have much choice?" A flippant answer to be sure, but at least it was delivered with less heat than it would have been earlier.

"Yes, Sookie, you have a choice. You just have to ask yourself if continued obstinacy is going to make the situation better or worse. Choose the answer you are willing to live with."

Any bond that we'd had from our time together was long gone, but I could feel the warring emotions of anger, frustration, fear, and defeat rolling off of her in waves. She paced the narrow hallway, head down, arms wrapped around her waist. The more she walked, the more anxious I became. Finally, she stopped and looked up at me.

"I hate this with everything that is in me, but I guess I will accept Eric's original offer."

"Do you mind if I ask why?

"Well as you said, I have to choose what I can live with. If I have to do this, I would rather take Eric's money and look for a way to give it back to him than be obligated to de Castro on any level at all."

Relieved that she had come to a decision she was willing to act upon, I responded, "Sounds like a plan to me."

Her face clouded up again. "What should I expect from this _'ceremony' _ending the marriage to Eric?

"I have no idea Sookie. I have never seen one, but the King needs to prove to Freyda that you are being set aside, so he may play to make a show of it for her benefit. The fact that de Castro allowed Eric's pledging to you to continue is unusual among our kind. I would caution you that any great show of emotion on your part will probably not be welcomed. Nor do you want to give Freyda anymore reason to question de Castro's ability to control his humans."

Sookie nodded sharply and said, "Alright, let's get this over with."

"Are you going to be okay?" I was frankly stunned by this sudden urge to go back in there to face de Castro's annoyance, disapproval, and political posturing.

Glancing over her shoulder as she walked through the doors into the offices, she answered uncertainly, "I really don't know."

Mr. Cataliades, sitting alone in the conference room, glanced up apprehensively as we made our way across the open office space. Sookie preceded me into the office and took her seat. I took mine and we waited.

The lawyer took what might be described as calming breaths and looked at Sookie with a slight smile. "My dear, King de Castro has asked me to hear your decision and manage the appropriate paper work. Do you have a preference as to which financial settlement you wish to accept?"

"Other than the funding source, is there any substantial difference between the terms and provisions of Eric's plan versus the plan offered by King de Castro?" A logical question, calmly asked.

"The only real difference is who administers the money." His smile broadened slightly and his tone was a little heartier. "Mr. Northman's arrangement names you as the sole custodian and beneficiary of the money. King de Castro's plan places Mr. Compton in the role of custodian, but you would have complete access to the money. Both arrangements allow you to use the money in whatever manner you wish."

"Alright then, I will accept Mr. Northman's financial arrangement." She was calm as she answered.

Somewhat startled, but clearly relieved, Mr. Cataliades' face lit up. "Excellent, my dear! I think you have made a superb choice. I know that Mr. Northman will be pleased that you are allowing him to look after your future needs."

"_Oh Lord, could you have said anything more patronizing?_" I could feel Sookie's temper starting to rise. I think if he had worked at it, he could not have chosen anything to say that would have been any more condescending and paternalistic. Sookie glared at him, but held her temper and said nothing.

Sensing that he may have raised the room's temperature again, he hurried on. "I will just step out to let the King know of your decision. We still have one more item of business to which we must attend so I will bring the interested parties back in." His smile was tight as he scurried out as quickly as a man his size could.

I braced myself for what was coming. I had been telling Sookie the truth about how unwilling de Castro would be to allow histrionics during whatever '_ceremony'_ was about to take place. Stealing a glance at Sookie she looked calmer than she had at any point up until now. She turned to see me staring at her, smiled reassuringly, and patted my hand.

"Don't worry Bill," Sookie assured me. "I'll be okay."

I did not pretend to have a clue as to why she was so calm about this, but I was grateful whatever the reason. I prayed that she was telling the truth, that it would be _'okay.'_

The door opened and the King, Freyda, Eric, and Sandy Seacrest filed in followed by Mr. Cataliades. Unsmiling, the King looked at Sookie, nodded sharply and took his seat. Eric remained standing behind his chair and Freyda resumed her seat at the far end of the table. Eric's face once again wore the expressionless mask that he had worn throughout most of the meeting and Freyda's carried a look of smug satisfaction.

Sandy Seacrest laid the briefcase on the conference table, opened it, and withdrew a velvet pouch and placed it in front of the King. Sookie grimaced when she saw the pouch, but maintained her silent observation of Sandy's activity.

The King took the velvet pouch in his hands and opened the drawstring. Reaching in, he withdrew a small jeweled-handle dagger and then placed the pouch on the table and laid the dagger on top. He continued to look at the little arrangement on the table top for a moment, but then looked up at Eric and then at Sookie. "Mr. Northman, Miss Stackhouse, would both of you join me at the head of the table?"

I stood to pull back Sookie's chair to allow her to rise. She thanked me and walked to the head of the table. Eric moved to stand opposite her. A tense stillness had settled over the room. I think de Castro was expecting Sookie to have a melt down and I know Freyda was hoping for it.

The King looked at Eric and said, "Proceed." Eric picked up the dagger, held it flat in the palms of his hands, and stared at it for a few moments.

He shook his head slightly before he began speaking, "By returning the knife to her who gave it," His voice was devoid of emotion. "I forswear my pledge and consider our marriage ended."Both his words and his expression were flat. He replaced the dagger in the velvet pouch and extended it toward Sookie, his face bearing the same stoic expression that had seldom been broken throughout this proceeding.

King de Castro instructed Sookie to take the pouch from Eric. Holding Eric's gaze she hesitated slightly before extending both hands, palms up to take the knife.

"Repeat after me," de Castro instructed Sookie.

"By accepting the return of the knife from him who received it," repeating de Castro's words exactly, "I release you from your pledge and consider our marriage ended."Her voice faltered slightly as the word _'ended.'_ I had expected her to lose control or cry, but her eyes, while indescribably sad remained dry.

King de Castro reached for the pouch which Sookie placed in his hands. Holding the dagger between the two of them in his flattened palms, he asked each of them in turn, "Before this company and these witnesses, do you renounce all claims of each on the other?"

"I do," they each answered.

Looking at Freyda at the end of the table, the King made his pronouncement, his voice resonating authority. "With the return of the knife by him who received it and the acceptance of the knife by her who gave it, the pledge between Eric Northman and Sookie Stackhouse is forever broken. From this point forward neither may lay claim to the other and all private associations are hereby ended."

As this odd little marriage ceremony in reverse came to a close there was only one face bearing any expression at all and it was on the face of Freyda, Queen of Oklahoma. It was the chilling feral smile of a predator.

The ever officious Mr. Cataliades broke the heavy silence in the room. "There is the matter of signing and witnessing of the dissolution agreement by both Miss Stackhouse and Mr. Northman." He held the pen and a single sheet of paper out to Sookie. Her hands were shaking slightly as she laid the document on the conference table, signed it, and returned to her seat. Eric took the pen, hastily scribbled his signature, and strode to his seat. Mr. Cataliades asked me to sign as witness to both signatures. There was a time, not so long ago, that I would have seen this signature as the start to a renewal of a relationship with Sookie, but not today. Today, it felt like the signature on a death warrant.

With all of the official business out of the way, King de Castro's face brightened considerably as he thanked us all for coming and bid us good evening. He swept out of the room with Sandy and Mr. Cataliades in his wake. Eric remained seated looking at Sookie as if trying to memorize her face.

Rising to claim her prize, Freyda walked to Eric, laid her hand on his shoulder and said simply, "Come." She stepped to one side as he pushed his chair back. He seemed numb as he rose and turned his back to us facing the side door. Freyda looked pointedly to his right arm. He seemed momentarily confused and then bent his elbow to offer her his arm. She tucked her left hand into his elbow and grasped his bicep with her right, hugging his arm possessively. Without looking back they left the room.

I looked at Sookie. She was dry-eyed, but still focused on that side door leading out of the conference room into the private offices beyond.

"Sookie. Are you…" I wanted to get her out of these offices before she lost it.

She held up her hand in a 'stop' motion and shook her head, so I waited giving her time to collect herself. After a span of about two or three minutes, she picked up her purse and pushed back her chair. I followed close behind as she left the conference room and headed down the hall toward the elevators. As we turned the corner to approach the elevators, Sookie came to a sudden stop. Eric and Freyda were waiting there ahead of us.

Sookie turned and wordlessly motioned me back around the corner. She was clearly not willing to share the elevator going down. I looked past Sookie to see Freyda advancing in our direction; Eric was following behind her watching her carefully. I moved Sookie to stand behind me as Freyda came to a stop in front of me. She was close enough that I could smell the heady fragrance of her perfume. In heels, she was almost as tall as me. Her beauty and regal bearing gave her a commanding presence.

"Mr. Compton," she said chuckling softly, "why so defensive? I'd just like a brief word alone with Miss Stackhouse." Her tone was politely amused, but her eyes flashed with authority.

Before I had a chance to respond, Sookie stepped out from behind me to stand by my side. "I prefer that Mr. Compton stay with me." Her voice was firm and did not falter.

Focusing on Sookie and smiling, she said, "Very well. I just wanted to thank you for your cooperation. I am sure that you will agree it was for the best for all concerned." Freyda's smile was conciliatory, but triumph sparkled in her eyes.

"_Be careful, Sookie. This is a dangerous game you are playing." _I moved fractionally closer to Sookie to either protect her or restrain her as the need might dictate.

"No Ma'am, I would not agree with that," she said as she lifted her chin to look straight into Freyda's eyes. Behind Freyda, Eric's eyes bored into the back of the Queen's head. He looked ready to spring; his body was in a slight crouch and his hands curled into claws.

"Whatever do you mean?" Her mock confusion was nearly laughable. "Surely you understand that vampire-human pledging is inappropriate and ultimately doomed to failure?"

"I mean nothing more than what I said," Sookie replied evenly. "I do not presume to know about the '_appropriateness'_ of human-vampire relations; therefore, I cannot agree that what happened today was for the best." Pausing slightly, she continued, "But I _do_ know about the consequences of taking what does not belong to you."

"Sookie!" My voice was sharp with a warning that she should curb her tongue. Now was not the time to engage this powerful and menacing Queen.

With a cold smile that did not reach her eyes and fangs extended, the Queen looked at Sookie and asked, "Are you _threatening_ me?"

No one was distracted when the elevator dinged to indicate its arrival. The doors opened and then closed again with no one inside.

"Not at all." Sookie held her ground, her head high. "I would never presume to do such a thing."

"Then tell me. What did you mean by _'the consequences of taking what doesn't belong to you?'"_

Inching closer to stand within easy arm's reach of the Queen's back, Eric was poised to intercede if tensions escalated. We made quick eye contact; with a slight nod of his head Eric let me know he was ready if necessary. We were both ready. His eyes returned to the Queen's back.

"Only this." Sookie's voice was firm. "When you take something that doesn't belong to you, be prepared for someone else to take it away from you. What goes around comes around." She could have just as easily been referring to the theft of kingdoms as easily as the pilfering of lovers. I was fairly sure that the Queen also understood the duality of her message.

We could all hear Sookie's heart was beating rapidly in the tense silence.

Suddenly, Freyda laughed in genuine amusement as her fangs retracted. "Miss Stackhouse, I can certainly see why the King values you so. You _are_ an original."

Turning to Eric, and noticing his tense watchfulness, her tone was light and dismissive as she said, "Oh Eric, don't be so worried. Miss Stackhouse and I are very much alike: we both know what we want and react badly when we don't get it," glancing at Sookie, she added, "or get to keep it. In another life, we might have been good friends. Come along, we have a wedding to plan!"

Looking between Freyda and Sookie, Eric seemed satisfied that the danger had passed. Turning without offering his arm to Freyda, he walked toward the elevator and pushed the button. Freyda followed close behind and took his arm that was hanging loosely at his side as they waited for the doors to open. He did not bend it to offer a gentleman's assistance. Since the elevator car was still on the floor it opened almost immediately, and the two of them stepped inside disappearing from view.

Sookie and I stood silently by, listening to the elevator make its descent.

Heaving a weary sigh, she looked into my eyes and took my arm, saying, "Take me home, Bill."

As we took our own arm-in-arm stroll to the elevators, neither of us could have imagined what was coming next.


	8. Chapter 8: Adjusting

AN: For all of you who reviewed Chapter 7, THANK YOU! I set a goal to reach 100 reviews before the end of the story and your reviews helped me reach that goal. Your support, suggestions and questions are most appreciated.

As always, huge thanks go to the redoubtable **joyindenver,** my beta extraordinaire. She doesn't just help me dot the 'i's and cross the 't's, she really works to make me a better storyteller. She has my eternal thanks.

I also encourage you to read **joyindenver's **fanfiction work. She's written a total of 9 stories. Her work **Unwrapped** (complete) followed by its work-in-progress sequel **Purple Death **are not to be missed. Happy reading y'all!

**Previously…**

_Looking between Freyda and Sookie, Eric seemed satisfied that the danger had passed. Turning without offering his arm to Freyda, he walked toward the elevator and pushed the button. Freyda followed close behind and took his arm that was hanging loosely at his side as they waited for the doors to open. He did not bend it to offer a gentleman's assistance. Since the elevator car was still on the floor it opened almost immediately, and the two of them stepped inside disappearing from view. _

_Sookie and I stood silently by, listening to the elevator make its descent._

_Heaving a weary sigh, she looked into my eyes and took my arm, saying, "Take me home, Bill." _

_As we took our own arm-in-arm stroll to the elevators, neither of us could have imagined what was coming next._

If my drive to Shreveport with Sookie had been a whirlwind of nervous activity, the drive back to Bon Temps proved to be just the opposite. Our walk to the car had been silent except for the sound of our shoes on the pavement, but Sookie had seemed to hold on to me a little more heavily with each step that we took.

Settling into my seat to start the drive back, I looked over at her to see her resting in her partially reclined seat with her eyes closed. "Sookie, are you alright?"

Still not opening her eyes, she murmured, "Hard to tell right now, Bill." Rolling her head to look at me, she opened her eyes. "It may take awhile for me to figure that out." The adrenaline that had been pumping through her body throughout this whole miserable evening had been replaced with bone weariness and swelling grief.

"Why don't you rest on the drive back? Would you like the radio on?"

She smiled at me, shaking her head slightly. "Thanks Bill, but I think I'll just take advantage of the quiet if you don't mind." Turning her head away from me, she closed her eyes again.

We drove in silence. Even though dawn was still hours away, her profound weariness seemed to be pulling me under as well. I might be going to rest earlier tonight than usual.

Just as I pulled onto the highway I glanced over at Sookie to find that she had fallen asleep. The dew of tears sparkled on her lashes and her brow was furrowed as if in deep concentration. Seeing her so sorrowful, even in her sleep, cut through me and made me regret not for the first time, all that my coming to her had cost her.

Against the hum of the tires on the road, I considered the events that had led me back to Bon Temps and everything that had happened since then. I wondered just how much of my failed relationship with Sookie was because I'm a Vampire with all that that entails, and how much of it was due to my failure as a man.

By their nature, Vampires are not prone to wild swings of emotion and as Vampires go, I am among the least likely to experience them. For decades, prior to the Great Revelation, I found it much easier to keep my emotions shuttered; _feeling_ was simply too risky and forming attachments was not only difficult in pre-revelation days, but the consequences ranged from dangerous to deadly. I'd had occasion to learn that early in my return to Louisiana. The consequences of my one attempt at forming an attachment… of _'feeling'…_ had left a painful and indelible impression on me.

I came home to Louisiana in 1920; fifty years with Lorena had been quite enough. With so many people from my human life still alive and possibly able to recognize me, I could not return to Bon Temps. So I chose New Orleans where Vampires had thrived almost openly since the city's founding in the early 18th century. The open practice of voodoo and wide-spread interest in the occult paved the way for Vampires to be just one more shadowy ingredient in the city's rich tapestry of the weird and wonderful.

The human population was titillated by popular stories and legends of our creation and existence: being born at certain times of the year, such as a new moon or on a holy day; if a child was born with a red caul, with teeth, or with an extra nipple, these were sure signs the child was doomed to be a Vampire. I was always amused at the extent to which _hair _factored into Vampire mythology: infants with excess hair, white hair, or red hair faced the specter of vampirism. Red birthmarks or being born the 7th son of a 7th son damned you to becoming a Vampire.

Of course the established methods of 'detecting' Vampires worked to our advantage as well. According to legend, we could not see ourselves in mirrors and were repelled by crosses, allergic to garlic, had hairy palms, an aversion to bright lights, and could not be photographed. Because we routinely proved these legends untrue, we were able to walk among humans with little difficulty. It made feeding relatively easy, and I never wanted for the relief of a quick lay.

While I would not characterize myself as happy in my life in New Orleans, I was able to exist in relative freedom, comfort, and safety. I was settled in my life there: I had a home, a good income, and my own routines. With the exception of one brief relationship, I kept to myself, living a fairly solitary existence enjoying all forms of music, literature, and the occasional foray to one of the many jazz clubs in the city and in neighboring Storyville. I lived peacefully for quite a long time until my Queen decided that I should return to Bon Temps.

I had worked for the Queen for nearly eighty years by the time I was sent back to Bon Temps to investigate Sookie Stackhouse, and if her talents proved to be useful, to secure her for the Queen's use. I arrived in Bon Temps as a man on a mission: locate the subject, test and verify her talent, use whatever means necessary to secure her loyalty, and make sure her services were secured for the Queen. I had no consideration or feeling for the human I was sent to investigate and procure. The plan was to get in and get the job done as quickly, efficiently, and as painlessly as possible. Mission accomplished, I would be able to return to New Orleans and resume my quiet, orderly, solitary life.

I never suspected that it would be me whose existence would be forever altered for having met Sookie Stackhouse. The first night I met her, she saved my life. The next night I saved hers.

She'd risked her life for me; I'd held her in my arms, given my blood and tasted hers. I knew from that first taste that she was something more than human and very extraordinary. Confronted with the awareness of her exceptional and wonderful nature, I kept telling myself that she was just a job that I needed to finish. Finishing it, I could go back to my previous existence…back to what I understood and could control.

As I continued my mission to get close to her, I found myself coming closer to feeling human…being human…as I had in a very long time. I was intrigued by the easy grace with which she went about her mundane job, a job she did with the same enthusiasm and dedication had it been a job of greater consequence or as if she had been making much more money. Sookie seemed to love life and continued to see so much good in people even knowing their worst secrets. And because of that I found myself drawn to her warmth, her spirit, her humanity.

I had not liked these feelings. They unsettled me and made me feel exposed and vulnerable.

Despite my best efforts and knowing that it was dangerous for me, I found myself attracted to her, _wanting her_. So I retreated into my anger at having been ripped from my orderly life. I resisted my attraction to her by giving into that aspect of my nature that I despised: that of a cunning, deceitful Vampire. I used her, lied to her, and fucked her all the while telling myself it was to secure her for the Queen's use. I played my part well: the attentive, courteous, and courtly 'southern gentleman.' It really hadn't been too hard; I had been that once.

I soon discovered that winning Sookie's trust would hinge on winning her Grandmother Adele's trust. As any southern man can tell you, if you win the affection of the mother, or grandmother in Sookie's case, the daughter was soon behind.

After meeting her it wasn't hard to tell how Sookie had developed her acceptance of things that were different or unusual. What I may have first thought was curiosity born of naiveté in Sookie, I soon learned was genuine acceptance and a deep inquisitiveness rooted deeply in Adele and manifested in Sookie. Adele was simply the older version of Sookie: she did not fear me, she was _interested_ in me. Like her granddaughter, she treated me with an openness and kindness that was unusual for _any_ human, let alone one as old as she.

At our very first meeting, in the way of Southerners, Adele and I talked about our 'people.' I shared stories with her about the early days of Bon Temps and how my people and hers had known each other. Adele had been anxious to know of my involvement in the Civil War, and I had agreed to speak at her DGD meeting to impress Sookie and win her grandmother's affection and loyalty. I was a 'living' history lesson for Adele and a window into a heritage that she treasured. I already knew that Sookie would consider me kindly if I was gentle and accommodating to her grandmother.

I must have been a very good actor, because Sookie fell in love with me in spite of what she knew of me and my kind. As our relationship progressed even with all of the dramatic events of those few months, I found myself falling in love with her.

The stronger my love became, the more miserable I became, and it showed up in a growing remoteness between the two of us. I felt myself growing more distant and taciturn. The more affectionate she became the more withdrawn I became.

I knew that Sookie prized honesty and openness. I became covert.

She valued normalcy, lightheartedness and fun. I countered with isolation and foreboding as I reminded her again and again of the treachery of the Vampire world. I found myself shifting in my seat as the pain of my memories flowed over me.

Sookie stirred. I looked over at her. She was still asleep and her rapid eye movements told me that she must be dreaming. From the tense look on her face, it did not appear to be a peaceful dream.

Focusing my attention back on the road, my mind continued its journey through some of my most bitter memories.

As much as I dreaded it, Lorena's call had almost been a reprieve even though I tried to delay returning to her side for as long as I could. Vampires don't lay awake tortured by stress, dilemmas and conflict, but we feel those things in our waking hours. I had been living with oppressive guilt over falling in love with a woman who could never be mine while answering to the commands of my Queen. While I could not be sure what Lorena wanted with me, a child cannot ignore his Maker's call; a call that trumps even a Queen's command.

On our last evening together as a couple, I prepared Sookie for my leaving. I explained to her that if I did not return in a timely fashion she should safe guard my database in her home, keep it secret, and give herself into Eric's protection for safekeeping. As I spoke, I knew that my businesslike tone was hurting her and that she could not imagine why I was leaving.

Throughout it all she had kept her back to me, doing her best to keep her tears and her sense of abandonment from showing. Her stiff posture and silent nods to my requests gave proof to her pride. She would not beg me to stay. When she walked out the door, the chasm cracked open wide between us, and I knew that we were done.

Of course, Lorena's call had been to get me to Mississippi to exploit my work on the database. Rumors had gotten to Russell Edgington of my interviews with 'living' Vampires. He couldn't be sure of what I was doing, but definitely wanted to know about it. The 'interview' was left to Lorena and some of Edgington's Were guards. As I suffered at her hands throughout those long nights, I thought of little else but Sookie.

I did not pray for my rescue, I prayed that Sookie would believe that I loved her. I hoped she would someday understand that I did not truly leave her by choice. There were times when I wondered if my torture at Lorena's hands was not some exquisite punishment for the wrongs I had done to Sookie. I think I would have welcomed had that been the case.

And then she rescued me.

I thought I was dreaming when Sookie came into the stables that day. In short order she staked Lorena, freed me, and managed to get my weakened body into a waiting car…the car that would be the scene of her near draining and rape at my hands.

My mother used to tell us children that there were 'reasons' and then there were 'excuses'. Reasons simply explained _why_ something happened. Excuses did the same, but could also provide absolution to 'excuse' the action. There are certainly reasons why Sookie was so grievously hurt that day, but none of them would excuse what I did.

And then she forgave me.

It took a little while, but Sookie forgave me for shutting her out, for leaving her, for nearly draining her and for raping her. She forgave me all of that, but ultimately could not forgive me for coming to her under false pretenses. That night at the hospital in New Orleans after she had been bitten by a newborn Vampire, Eric forced me to tell her of my original mission to Bon Temps. That was the well known 'straw' on her camel's back.

There would be no going back for us. The first woman I had loved in over eighty years was lost to me.

Absorbed in my thoughts, I almost missed the turn off to Bon Temps. Turning down Hummingbird Lane, I looked over at Sookie again: still asleep and appearing to dream more peacefully. Her full lips were slightly parted and her left hand lay palm up on the console, her fingers gently curled.

Coming to a stop at the back of her house I debated about waking her up. I would have been content just to sit there, watching her sleep and listening to her gentle breathing. The sound of her heartbeat had always soothed me as it beat a gentle rhythm in her chest.

Knowing that she would rest better in her own bed, I got out and walked around to her side of the car prepared to carry her inside. As I opened her door, she stirred and woke up looking around sleepily. "Are we home?"

"Yes, we are. You slept the whole way here." As she scrambled to put on her shoes, I asked, "Would you like me to carry you inside?"

"No, that's okay. I'm fine…just a little groggy." Stretching as she stood, she continued, "I feel sore, like I've been doing a big spring cleaning."

"The tension of the evening has probably caused every muscle you have to scream in protest." Smiling slightly, I made an observation. "Sookie you have been wound as tight as a two dollar watch." One corner of her mouth quirked upward as she gave me a faint smile.

I walked her to the door and as we stood under the porch light, she turned to look up at me. "Thanks for driving tonight. I know this wasn't any picnic for you any more than it was for me. I really appreciate you being there."

"Sookie you know I will be there for you when you need me." I was a little startled when she wordlessly stepped forward to put her arms around my waist, hugged me, and rested her head on my chest.

"Bill, we have had some hard times, you and I, but you provide a steadiness and calmness that I have really need sometimes." Her arms lingered on my waist; I raised my arms to hug her to me. I had not had this privilege in some time and it felt good as I reveled in the warmth of her body against mine.

With her head resting on my chest, she continued, "There were times tonight when I thought I was going to totally lose it, like I was daring de Castro to do something. I felt out of my mind at the prospect of losing Eric to that smug bitch. Thanks for pulling me back from the ledge."

"Sookie, I am honestly surprised that de Castro held his temper as well as he did, especially with Freyda looking on. I am actually a little curious, almost suspicious, of how patient he was with you." Holding her in my arms made me all too aware of how fragile she was and how easily she could have been punished tonight.

"There is very little Eric or I could have done to stop it had de Castro decided he had been pushed too far." Squeezing her slightly, I warned, "You need to be more guarded in your comments to the King in front of other Vampires."

Holding her in my arms, I felt the warmth of her body slowly invading mine. I buried my nose in her hair to revel in her unique personal scent. Keeping my fangs and my body under control was proving difficult.

Many nights after our return from Mississippi, I had lain in the bed in the upstairs master bedroom just inhaling the small traces of her scent and the scent of us together that pervaded the room. There were still a few of her things in my dresser drawers and like a child with a favorite blanket, I found myself holding them in my hands, letting the soft fabric soothe me. That room and the bed within had been the scene of so many wonderful memories for me; it was many months before I could enter that room without thinking of Sookie. That may have contributed to my inability to lose myself in Judith's arms.

Sookie turned her face upward to rest her chin on my chest. The movement pulled me from my reverie. She smiled slightly as she said, "I'm sure you're right. My mouth has been known to get me in trouble." Giving me a quick squeeze around my middle, she stepped back to unlock her door. "Would you like to come in for a minute?"

Her words welcomed me in, but the tone of her voice begged me to refuse. "No, I need to get home. I have a few things to do before dawn and you need to get to bed." Hoping to see her again soon, I asked, "Are you working tomorrow?"

"I still have bills to pay. So, yes, I am working four 'til close."

"I'll try to stop buy Merlotte's tomorrow night then."

Yawning so broadly that her eyes teared up, Sookie stepped inside her front door. "Wow…excuse me. I need to get to bed before I fall asleep right here in the door." Looking back at me her expression was a mixture of fatigue, sadness, and resignation. "Thanks, Bill…for everything. I'll see you tomorrow."

I waited while she turned off the porch light and the downstairs lights before mounting the stairs to her room. Feeling that she was safe at least for tonight, I returned to my car to take the short drive to my house. My own fatigue was pulling at me, and I knew I would be going to rest earlier than usual.

The next night, I went to Merlotte's about an hour before closing time. There were just a few remaining die-hards left in the restaurant when I arrived so I decided to sit at the bar and talk to Kennedy Keyes, Sam's newest bartender. A very pretty girl, Kennedy; she was a definite improvement over some he'd had in the past even if she did seem to have a bit of an edge to her.

Sookie spotted me as I took my seat at the bar. Walking over to servers' area of the bar she said, "Hey, Bill." Kennedy, I need two Dixie Drafts and a Bud Light." The strain of maintaining her smile was evident…at least to me.

Kennedy nodded her understanding and started pulling the draft beers. "Watcha' doin here, Bill?" Sookie asked.

She came to stand between my stool and the empty one next to me, leaning backward wearily with her elbows on the bar.

"I thought I would come by to see you home. Do you recall that I mentioned it last night?"

"Oh, that's right." Sookie stifled a yawn behind her hand. "I forgot."

"You only have another forty five minutes. I'll just wait at the bar until you are off and then I'll follow you home."

I had gone to rest at dawn with a feeling of vague apprehension and had awoken this night with the same feeling. I could not trace its exact source but it seemed to stem from that conference room in Shreveport. There were several things about that meeting that I could not reconcile in my mind.

"Really Bill, you didn't have to come. She sounded exhausted; even her pony tail looked limp. "I know you've got stuff you need to do."

Kennedy put Sookie's beer order on her tray and called, "Order up, Sookie."

Sookie pushed off from the bar, grabbed her tray and headed out to the table to deliver her order. Kennedy took my order for a Tru Blood and it was warming in the microwave, as I watched Sookie move from table talking to the few customers who were left. Her trademark smile never left her face as she dealt with each table. Finally, about 11:45 the last customer left and she started her closing routine.

Watching her begin to put the chairs on the tabletops, I left the last of my blood on the counter. I knew that Terry Bellefleur would be in soon to start cleaning the floors.

"Bill! What are you doing?" Sookie turned around to see me putting chairs on tabletops. I was cheating a little as I worked at what she called 'vamp speed.'

"I'm helping you finish so that you can get home." She looked absolutely shocked at my words. "You look nearly dead on your feet."

She grinned. "Uh, Bill…it's you who's 'dead on his feet.' You sure you should be doing that?" Her voice lilted upward into a laugh.

I found myself grinning back at her. "Be that as it may, this 'dead man' is moving faster than you. If you have something else you need to do, go do it. I'll finish this."

Her cheeky grin changed to a grateful smile. "Thanks, Bill. I've got to run through my prep for tomorrow. It won't take long." Coming over to me, she braced herself on my shoulders and reached up to kiss my cheek.

Her warm kiss reached to a place deep inside me feeding my love for her. As badly as I had wanted to take her in my arms and deepen the kiss, I was determined to be patient. I wanted Sookie to come to me…I wanted her to _choose me_.

Sookie moved ahead of me snatching up ketchup bottles, salt and pepper shakers and napkin holders to take to the back. About ten minutes later, I was sitting at the bar finishing my blood when she signaled that she was going out the back door to her car. I paid Kennedy, thanked her and headed out to follow Sookie home.

Arriving right behind her, I pulled in next to her. Meeting her at her car door, she smiled sleepily as she said, "It's a good thing I live just a little bit away from work. I almost fell asleep." She took the hand I offered her to help her out of the car.

Tucking her hand into the crook of my arm, we walked to her door where she fumbled with her keys trying to open the lock. "You need to get to bed." I said, taking her keys from her hand. "You seem especially tired tonight."

"I'm pooped, Bill. Between last night and work today…" She sighed as her words trailed off. It seemed that the stress and emotional toll of last night's events in Shreveport coupled with a full work day today had taken their toll.

"When are you off again?" I was hoping it would be soon so that she could get some rest.

"Not until Tuesday. Tomorrow is noon 'til 6 and then four 'til close on Monday. I am off Tuesday and Wednesday."

"Okay then. I will come to see you home on Monday." My need to escort her home was based on more than just my desire to be with her.

"Bill, you're sweet to be looking after me like this, but it really isn't necessary."

"Sookie, remember that King de Castro has asked me to look after you." I wanted her to know that her safety and well being are not only my concern, but the concern of my King as well. "It is not just my desire to do this, it is his command."

Sookie grunted a weary "Hmpf." She was still unwilling to accept her own importance to me or to my King. "Why would de Castro give two hoots in a whirlwind about my getting home safely? What exactly does he think is going to happen and why would he tie up _you_ trailin' around after me?"

She asked some excellent questions for which I had no solid answer. Until I could figure out why I felt such apprehension about her dealings with de Castro, I was not going to speculate out loud to Sookie. I would just try to be with her as much as possible until that apprehension proved unfounded or its source was dealt with.

"You are an asset of de Castro's kingdom. He guard's his assets." It was a truthful answer.

Sookie issued another annoyed 'hmpf' before saying, "I am getting really tired of being 'the telepath' and' the asset.' I am _Sookie_, with my own life and my own agenda. I wish I'd never signed that stupid contract."

Her fatigue amplified her anger. It was time to bring an end to this conversation before a full scale fit of temper erupted.

"I understand. Sookie, you are tired and you need to get some sleep; it's been two hard nights for you." Her narrowed eyes told me that she knew I was 'handling' her.

"Is that my cue to 'shut up and deal,' Bill?" Frustration and defiance rippled across her face.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

She pinned me with a glare. As she opened her mouth to argue I interrupted her. "Sookie, you are worn out. Now is not the time to get into this. Just let me look after you for the next two nights and then we can talk more about it on Tuesday evening when you are free."

Sighing irritably she said, "Okay. You're right, but I am _not_ happy about this. I don't like the feeling of being watched and babysat."

I wanted to sigh with relief, but knew if I did she would wind back up again. "I'll just phone you tomorrow evening after I rise, and then I'll be at Merlotte's before close on Monday. Will that be alright?"

Reluctantly she again replied, "Okay, but I'll say it again: I. Am. Not. Happy."

Leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, all I could say was, "I know. Sleep well and I'll talk to you tomorrow night."

I made sure that she got inside her house safely before heading to my car. As I drove home, I thought about the contract between Sookie and King de Castro. While the King's explanation for it made sense, contracts between Vampires and humans for individual services of this type were rare. The King hadn't had to offer a contract, but he did. He'd gone to a great deal of trouble to get her to sign it and even more trouble with Sookie's contrary behavior to get her to agree to a financial settlement from Eric. The fact that he'd allowed Sookie to act so rebelliously in front of Freyda had made me wary of his motives.

I continued to mull over the events of recent weeks and especially those of last night in Shreveport. As I went to rest, I decided I would need to be on my guard on my next trip to Las Vegas to see what, if anything I could find out. Something just didn't feel right.


	9. Chapter 9: Apprehension

**AN: **Thank you so much for your reviews and comments to Chapter 8. By the time I finished the final draft of Chapter 8, it was at nearly 17,000 words. That is way too long to be published at once, so I broke it into three chapters.

Any mistakes that you see in writing mechanics are my own. **Joyindenver**, my dear beta is perfect, so don't let any mistakes made after her beta reading reflect upon her. I had to re-upload this chapter because of a glitch in the first attempt. I apologize for any confusion.

As always, the names you recognize belong to Charlaine Harris; any names you don't recognize belong to me. Happy reading!

**Previously…**

_I made sure that she got inside her house safely before heading to my car. As I drove home, I thought about the contract between Sookie and King de Castro. While the King's explanation for it made sense, contracts between Vampires and humans for individual services of this type were rare. The King hadn't had to offer a contract, but he did. He'd gone to a great deal of trouble to get her to sign it and even more trouble with Sookie's contrary behavior to get her to agree to a financial settlement from Eric. The fact that he'd allowed Sookie to act so rebelliously in front of Freyda had made me wary of his motives. _

_I continued to mull over the events of recent weeks and especially those of last night in Shreveport. As I went to rest, I decided I would need to be on my guard on my next trip to Las Vegas to see what, if anything, I could find out. Something just didn't feel right._

As we had agreed, I called Sookie on Sunday night. Our phone conversation was brief and we didn't talk about her irritation with the contract or the King's expectations for her safety. She told me she was planning to stay home and get caught up on her laundry, so I felt she would be relatively safe. However, I still found myself compelled to patrol her woods for a few hours until dawn drove me to my rest. I couldn't seem to shake the uneasiness that plagued me.

Monday night found me back at Merlotte's about an hour before closing, helping her stack chairs and then seeing her home. Monday nights were always at Merlotte's, so she came home that night a little less exhausted. We stood talking on the porch for a bit and she made one small sarcastic comment about me being 'de Castro's assigned babysitter,' but in the interest of maintaining peace, I let it go. I reminded myself of the value that Sookie placed upon her independence, and I understood that she saw my efforts as an unnecessary infringement upon it.

Climbing the front steps to Sookie's front porch on Tuesday evening, I wondered not for the first time if I should share with her my misgivings. I didn't want to alarm her, but at the same time, I didn't want her to be unaware of what could happen. I didn't have anything tangible to go on, only my nagging suspicions related to de Castro's out of character behavior. I knew he viewed Sookie as a subject no different than me or Eric or any other vampire in Nevada, Louisiana, and Arkansas.

Still undecided as to what I should tell Sookie, I knocked on her door and wondered at the thumping and banging I heard coming from the upstairs. I heard a muffled 'oompf' then the sound of Sookie clattering down the stairs to answer the door.

The door flung open. Sookie grinned at me. "Hey Bill! Boy, I'm glad you are here." She pushed opened the screen door and invited me in. Her hair was disheveled and there was a smudge of dust on her forehead. She was wearing a well worn t-shirt and a pair of cut-off jean shorts that were coated with a layer of dust.

"What have you been up to?" I reached up and pulled the remnants of a fine spider web out of her hair. "Because whatever it is, it's covering you in dust and cobwebs."

"I am back to cleanin' this house out. There's all kinds of stuff in the bedroom and hall closets upstairs. I don't even know when it was done the last time. Gran kept a pretty neat house day to day, but there is a ton of stuff that has stacked up over the years." She raised her eyebrows and took in my pressed sport shirt, khaki slacks, and polished shoes. "I was going to ask you to help, but you'd mess up your good clothes."

I chuckled and said, "You're right. Give me five minutes and I'll be back. " I went out the way I had come in and zipped across the cemetery and changed into jeans and a t-shirt.

When I got back to Sookie's house I went in the back door and found her pulling a warmed blood out of the microwave. "Here," she said smiling at me. "I figured you might need your strength before we start." Sobering she said, "I see you wore my favorite t-shirt."

I looked down. Without thinking I'd put on my Grateful Dead t-shirt…the shirt that held strong memories for both of us. My memories were of the first rock concert I attended, hers were of the night Adele, her Gran, was killed.

Seeing the stricken look on my face, she said, "It's okay, Bill." Her voice was subdued as she asked, "How _did_ you get that shirt?"

"At a Grateful Dead concert."

The music had been loud and raucous; lots of drunk and drugged young people dancing freely to the music. That night was my first experience drinking from a very heavily drugged young woman. The effects had been…interesting.

Sookie poked me. "You can't leave me hangin', Bill. Tell me about the concert."

Rolling my eyes at her, I said. "Sookie, you know I love music…most every kind of music. I went to their concert in New Orleans when they performed at The Warehouse in 1970." Sookie's expression was a mixture of surprise and skepticism. "They were in New Orleans for two nights. I went on the second night after they were bailed out of jail, and I bought the t-shirt at the concert. I found that I like most rock music even if I don't like most rock concerts."

"What?" Her eyes were wide in apparent disbelief. "Is that because you think I don't like _rock music_ or that _I_ wouldn't go to a rock concert?" She shook her head. "Both I guess," she said rolling her eyes. "You better hang on to that t-shirt. It's probably a collector's item by now," she quipped.

"I doubt it," I said feeling slightly annoyed. I supposed that the 'fuddy-duddy' image she held of me was a remnant of the disapproving and aloof manner I had adopted with her in the beginning of our relationship. "Come on," I deflected. "Show me what you want me to do."

"Alrighty, then." Her smile bordered on apologetic. "Would you mind carrying some stuff downstairs? I am having Jason and Hoyt take some of it to the dump and most of the other stuff to Goodwill. I'll be about done when we get this stuff downstairs."

For the next two hours I packed boxes and bags and hauled small furniture items out to the back porch. This had become Sookie's staging area where she would decide what items she wanted to sell, donate or send to the dump. As she worked, she seemed happier, if a little driven. I reasoned that working to get her family home in order gave her a sense of purpose and connection that was lost in the broken bond and subsequent 'divorce' from Eric. She seemed to be working to build a life for herself after Eric…or so I thought until we finished working.

Sookie and I went outside to dust ourselves off. I brushed the dust off her back and she reciprocated, brushing the dust off the back of my shirt and jeans. The feel of her hands, even through my clothing, was well worth the effort I'd put out to help her. As she finished brushing me off, she grabbed my hand and said, "Come back in Bill. I'll buy you a blood. I can't thank you enough for helping me."

I took a seat at her old kitchen table as she warmed a Tru Blood and made a glass of sweet tea for herself. With her back to me while she poured her tea, she asked, "You heard anything from Eric or Pam?" Her question was asked casually, as if the answer didn't much matter. The microwave dinged so she took the blood from the microwave, shook it gently, and set in on the table in front of me.

She remained standing, leaning against the countertop as I answered. "I've spoken with Pam." She nodded silently waiting for me to continue. "Eric is still Sheriff of Area 5, but she said that she is taking on more responsibility. He went to Tulsa last Saturday evening and was to return this night."

Rolling her eyes with disdain she muttered, "Guess he has to dance to _her_ tune now. That'll be new for him." She spoke absently and her eyes had a distant look as if she had retreated into someplace deep inside herself.

I wasn't sure if I should respond, so I decided to remain silent.

Coming back from wherever she had been, she took a sip of her tea. "Does Pam have anything else to say?" Her chest was barely rising as she breathed; I felt my own chest tightening. I wanted to hold her, but knew I should not.

"Not much," I said. "Only that Freyda was pushing de Castro to replace Eric as Sheriff, so that he will not be called back to Shreveport to tend to Area business." I didn't mention Pam's comment related to the state of Eric's office when de Castro had let him know of Freyda's demands.

Sookie's face paled as she considered my words, her tea forgotten in her hands.

"Did Pam say anything about what's going on with her?" I knew that Pam and Sookie had become friends, an unusual occurrence between vampires and humans. Sookie's losses would be compounded if Pam followed Eric to Oklahoma.

"She has taken on almost full responsibility for Fangtasia night-to-night and is trying to cover as many of Eric's Sheriff's responsibilities as she can when Eric is called away to Oklahoma." When Pam related this information to me, her stressed voice and careful word choice had worried me. "She didn't say anything directly, but I think she is afraid of what Eric might do if pushed too hard by either de Castro or Freyda."

Sookie's eyes looked worried as she asked, "Did she say anything about how _she _is doing?" She sat down at the kitchen table across from me, put her forgotten tea down, and clasped her hands together tightly.

"Her words to me were not personal. I would have been very surprised had they been." Actually, Pam's voice had been tightly controlled, and her words clipped as she had spoken with me. "I think you know that Pam's loyalty is to Eric first, last and always," I commented. "She will do what she has to do to serve him and protect him whether it is in Louisiana or Oklahoma. I imagine that she is as unsettled as you are. Perhaps more so."

Sookie's expression was taut as nervous energy vibrated through her. Her hands were shaky as they left the table and began rubbing the tops her thighs restlessly. Suddenly she leaned forward resting her arms on the table, and then just as quickly leaned back in her chair. I'd tried to inject as much calm into my voice as I could. I didn't need a bond with Sookie to know that she was reaching her limit.

Abruptly, she got up from the table, moved to the sink and poured her nearly full glass of iced tea down the drain. She rinsed the glass out and set it upside down on a towel lying on the countertop. Her little chore done, she remained standing, appearing to stare absently out the window. I could see her face reflected in the old, weathered glass.

She was fighting for control.

Suddenly she asked, "Why do y'all put up with this shit?" Her voice was harsh as she whirled around to face me. Her words flew out of her mouth. "How can you let yourselves be pushed around like pawns on a chessboard?" Choking with tears, she cried, "Why should any of you have to do _**anything**_ these self-appointed blowhards that call themselves Kings and Queens want you to do?" She doubled over, grabbing her midsection as if experiencing a sudden cramp; her breath rasped out in short, sharp gasps.

I had to do something. Sookie's careful façade was breaking apart. I got up and pulled her up into my arms. She held on to me tightly. Drowning in her own misery, she balled my t-shit in her hands, opening and closing her fists as if grasping at a lifeline. As badly as I wanted Sookie back in my arms, I did not want it like this.

There was nothing I could think to say, so I just continued to hold her until the storm began to subside. Slowly the tears stopped, the gasping for breath quieted, and she released the back of my t-shirt and leaned wearily against me.

Eventually, she patted my back and pulled out of my embrace. Wordlessly, she walked out of the kitchen and I listened as she mounted the stairs to her room. Soon came the sound of drawers opening and closing and water running; I supposed that Sookie was trying to put herself to rights.

Moving to her living room, I took a seat in one of the chairs near the sofa. Hearing her move about upstairs I was unsure as to whether I should leave or stay. I waited a bit to see if she would come back downstairs. We needed to talk; she needed to start coming to terms with what was happening to Eric, herself, and Pam. As they say these days, she needed to get her head in the game.

After about 20 minutes, Sookie came down the stairs. She had taken a shower; her hair was combed straight back away from her forehead and hanging in damp strings down her back. Dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a tank top, she looked clean and fresh, but her face was still red from crying.

Tucking her legs underneath herself, she sat on the end of the couch nearest me. Her voice was a bit wobbly as she said, "I'm really sorry, Bill. I didn't mean to come apart like that. I've been trying really hard to put a brave face. I just can't wrap my head around the fact that Makers and Kings can rule you so completely."

She looked at me as if I had an answer that would explain it logically, rationally. I did not. What could I possibly say that would make a mostly human woman understand the magic, customs, and politics that had taken away the man she had cared deeply about? I'd found myself sighing so much lately, I felt I might as well take up regular breathing again.

"Sookie, I know this is hard for you and it will take some time for you to adjust. You know I will help you in any way that I can if you want me to." Her eyes slid sideways, filling with tears as she nodded her understanding.

"I want to tell you something that has me concerned." I'd made up my mind that she should know what had been plaguing me. This might be one of those times that knowledge would be power…or warning. "There is nothing I know for sure, but I am worried about de Castro's dealings with you." Sookie's face cleared slightly as she focused her attention on me.

"What has you worried, Bill?"

"You do understand that de Castro sees you as an asset of his kingdom, yes?"

Scoffing, she said, "I know that's how _he_ thinks of me."

Not wanting to get into an argument, I overlooked her tone and continued. "I am concerned about this contract. Typically, a monarch's assets are not given contracts. They are just told what they are expected to do. We get paid for our services, but we work at the Kings' pleasure."

She rolled her eyes at my comment. She either didn't understand or stubbornly refused to accept just how much all Vampires served at a 'King's pleasure.' I felt my irritation at her cavalier dismissal of the compulsory obligations to my King bloom into fear for her. I wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her...make her see that, like me, her continued health and well-being depended upon the favor of the ruling monarch. Roiling through my brain were all of the instances when a King's…or Queen's…pleasure had caused me pain. Needing to put physical distance between us, I shot to my feet and strode across the room.

With my back to her, but finally feeling as if I could speak without shouting, I ground out, "Sookie…roll your eyes as you might, but know this: I _**do **_serve at the pleasure of the King just as Eric does, and I might add…So. Do. You. Surely recent events coupled with the past events of our life should have been enough to teach you that." I turned to look squarely at her, and asked, "Or have you not been paying attention?"

Sookie looked taken aback at my reaction to what she probably considered an innocuous response to my description of my obligations to my King. I watched as her faced registered confusion, anger, sympathy, resignation, and regret.

"I'm sorry, Bill. I wasn't making fun of you. I guess I've never gotten used to all of the stuff that goes with Vampire politics." Sadness darkened her eyes as she added, "Sometimes I think if I just deny it or make fun of it, it won't be true." Her voice quavering she added, "But if any human should know how much control de Castro has, it should be me."

"I know you weren't making fun of me." Trying to be gentle I continued, "But your stubborn refusal to understand and accept the strictures imposed on you in your association with Vampires could be your undoing. The more I have thought about the contract and de Castro's behavior in Shreveport, the more unsettled I have become."

I returned to the chair closest to her. "I don't understand why he is treating you so generously and leniently." That was as clear and concise as I could make it. "Vampire Kings don't do contracts with their assets and they certainly don't tolerate the kind of behavior you demonstrated that night."

"You didn't put up any objections to the contract or Eric's settlement the night that Cataliades was here." Her words were laced with suspicion. "What's changed?" she asked.

These last weeks with Sookie had taught me about the calming effects of taking what humans called a 'cleansing breath.' I took one now before speaking.

"I thought that he was putting you under contract since Eric would no longer be around for direct protection," I explained. "I am not as strong as Eric, but with the King's contract and me close by for ongoing protection you would be covered. It would be a clear message to other monarchs that you are His."

Sookie's feet had come down to rest flat on the floor. "And you don't think that now?"

"Honestly, Sookie, I don't know. That may still be his motivation, but he bent over backwards to put provisions in the contract that he knew that you would want. From a Vampire's perspective, it was extraordinarily generous

"Hmpf," she gave a very unladylike snort. "He knew I probably wouldn't sign it otherwise."

She really didn't get it. "You do understand that if he wanted to, he could have simply taken you to Las Vegas to work for him directly, don't you?"

"He wouldn't do that." A sudden look of fear flashed across her face. "People would know. Jason would come looking for me."

I doubted that Felipe de Castro would have very much to fear from Jason Stackhouse, but I stifled my skepticism before I answered her. "Sookie, Vampire monarchs have been taking people for centuries…for millennia." I tried not to sound exasperated as I added, "You don't think they have figured out ways to cover it up?"

"Then why didn't he just do that in the first place?" She still doubted the precariousness of her situation.

"This I do not know. But more than that, I am still stunned that he did not punish you for your behavior in Shreveport. He is under pressure financially and politically. Any sign of weakness would be a green light for a takeover."

"_I know_." Sookie's annoyance was laced with fear; never a good combination. "You made that clear in Shreveport. So…what do I do?" she asked.

"Right now, nothing. I expect to be summoned to Las Vegas soon to present my updated database and my suggestions for increasing revenues to de Castro's hotels and casinos. I will try to find out what I can while I am there." I knew I would not be privy to any of de Castro's high level meetings, but I'd always had a good working relationship with Sandy. She might be my best opportunity to find out what was going on.

"I really don't know de Castro, Bill. What's he like?" Finally. Sookie was asking questions about the man who might be her enemy.

"He is not the best that I know of, but he is far from the worst. De Castro treats his subjects better than many reigning monarchs, but his expectations are no less than any other: fealty, obedience, and respect. I haven't existed as long as Eric, but I have learned many of the same lessons he has…the hard way." I shifted in my seat, feeling suddenly uncomfortable recalling unwanted memories.

Looking at me carefully, she asked, "I guess some of those lessons weren't pleasant, were they Bill?"

Shrugging and shaking my head slightly, I breathed out, "They were not."

"You know…I don't know much about de Castro, and as I think about it, I really don't know much about you. We were friends for about two weeks, then we were lovers, and then we were broken up. All that happened really fast. We never did much talking about you."

Stunned by the shift in topics, I met her eyes. How did this come up? "Sookie," I hesitated. "You know about my wife, my children. You certainly know about Lorena."

Almost as if talking to herself, she recalled our beginning. "When we first met, you were interesting to me. I couldn't hear you and it was so relaxing to be with you. I wanted to get to know you, but you were kind of standoffish and formal. I wasn't sure we could be friends, let alone lovers."

She continued her recollection until her words halted as she came to one of the great tragedies of our history. "You were so sweet to Gran. Her last hours were happy, because of you and when she died…," she paused, recalling the terrible scene in this room, "I don't think I could have gotten through it without you…" Her words trailed off as she searched my eyes for something. For what, I wasn't sure.

"I always thought you were so…so…cool and apart from everything, because you came from another time and weren't sure how to fit in now." She seemed to be considering every word as she said, "But now I think there may be a whole lot more to it." Her gaze was intense as if she was seeing me clearly for the very first time.

If I had a pulse, it would have been racing.

"What do you think now, Sookie?" I whispered, afraid that she was finally beginning to see the truth of my nature.

She took a deep breath. "I think…" Her eyebrows knit together and she exhaled loudly before continuing more quickly. "I think you're one, _really_ angry guy." Her gaze fixed on me with the intensity of a hypnotist.

The atmosphere grew heavy between us.

"Why do you think I am angry, Sookie?" My whole body stilled as I waited for her answer.

"Oh, over the course of our relationship I can think of a buncha' things."

I was fairly sure that we were sharing some of the same images of our past.

Softly, she added, "I read one time that 'where there's anger, there's pain.' I think there's a whole lot of pain in you, and I think you've been carryin' it around for a long time." She paused as if weighing her next words.

She slid forward in her chair.

"Who hurt you Bill?" she gently asked.


	10. Chapter 10: Remembering

**AN:** I am humbled by the positive responses that I have received from so many of you. Your comments make me feel very encouraged to continue. So, thank you very much.

**Joyindenver** rocks! She takes my raw work and helps me make it beautiful. I am truly blessed that she shares her talent with me.

* * *

><p><em>Her words were spoken softly as she added, "I read one time that 'where there's anger, there's pain.'" "I think there's a whole lot of pain in you and I think you've been carryin' it around for a long time." She paused as if weighing her next words. She slid forward in her chair, her voice gentle as she asked, "Who hurt you Bill?<em>

My legs felt suddenly weak; if I needed to breathe I would have found myself gasping. I sat heavily into the chair opposite Sookie.

As she continued, I could feel the pressure building in my head as my throat constricted. I couldn't meet Sookie's eyes, so I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, my hands clasped together tightly, my eyes focused on the toes of my athletic shoes. Oddly, I found myself wondering if I should buy some new ones.

Sookie's voice called me back. "Bill, I think you work really hard to control your anger. That's what makes you seem standoffish. It helps keep the pressure away." Sookie's voice carried a small note of wonder as if she had made an important discovery. "Your self control is kinda' like my shields…it helps keep the crazy down. That way you don't hafta' feel as much."

Her simple words were dredging up emotions I'd worked hard to force to the deepest recesses of my consciousness. My body stiffened drawing my hands into fists. I felt the need to pull in on myself rather than face the memories that were barreling toward me with the force of a tidal wave. I wanted to talk about anything other than the memories roiling through my brain. Her words hammered at my reserve.

"Bill, we have a world of hurt between us, but I still think you're a good man." Her expression begged me to talk to her. "Even though you have done some terrible things to me, I wouldn't wish any kind of pain on you."

I had been expecting to see revulsion in her eyes. What I got was acceptance and understanding. I couldn't bear it. I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes. I found myself on my feet again, gripping the mantel of the fireplace hoping to gain control before I shamed myself and cried in front of her. I would not be able to bear her pity.

Sookie slipped her arms around my waist from behind hugging me to her. She rested her head against my back. It was too much. I turned around quickly and gathered her in my arms crushing her to my chest. Burying my face in her hair, I wept, loud racking sobs that shamed me.

"Shh…" She ran her hands up and down my back. "Shh…,"she soothed, speaking as she might to a child. I came apart in her arms and was unable to stop. I felt weak and humiliated.

"I am sorry…I am sorry…sorry." I choked out. The knot of anguish filling my throat was consuming. I wanted to sink to my knees, bare my chest, and ask her to end me.

All sense of time slipped away. I could not tell you how long she stood there holding me, her arm tight around my wait while the other held the nape of my neck as my face lay buried in the crook of her neck. Slowly, I came back to myself and felt the cloying ache of humiliation at my weakness.

Sensing that the worst had finally passed, Sookie pulled out of my embrace and led me back to sit on the couch. Without a word, she left the room. I heard the water running in the downstairs bathroom. She came back and knelt down in front of me. In my shame, I turned my face away from her. Cupping my cheek, she turned my tear-stained face toward her. Her expression was carefully neutral showing no signs of judgment or pity as she gently wiped the tears from my face.

Still silent she rose from her knees, returned the washcloth to the bathroom and went into the kitchen. I heard the clink of ice in a glass and the ding of the microwave. She came back into the living room with a glass of iced tea and a bottle of blood. Setting the blood in front of me on the coffee table, she took her seat in the armchair nearest to the end of the couch where I was sitting.

Sipping her tea, she remained quiet, waiting for me. Her eyes were not on me, but on some distant spot in the room.

Hardly knowing where to begin, all I could think to say was, "Well…I guess Eric never subjected you to a weeping breakdown."

She turned her eyes to me and fixed me with a steady stare and a raised eyebrow and said nothing.

Our silence hung heavily in the room. I could hear the wall clock ticking in the kitchen, the sound of the wind blowing gently outside, and the sound of Sookie's quiet breathing as it moved gently in and out of her lungs.

She continued to sip her tea and to wait for me.

The pressure of her expectant presence was palpable. I did not want to shame myself any further, so I sought the comfort of my old friend: anger.

"What do you want me to say, Sookie?" My words were harsh in the hope that she would back off and not expect me to 'share my feelings' like I was on some psychology based talk show that explored _'relationships.' _I could not keep the sneering tone out of my internal voice.

She set her glass of iced tea down on the side table and folded her hands in her lap. "Do you remember our dinner date several weeks ago when all of this business with the 'divorce' started?"

"Of course, I remember. What of it?" _Where was she going with this?_ I wondered.

She put her index finger to her cheek in a pantomime of thoughtfulness, tilted her chin and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Hmm…let's see if I can remember what… you… said…to me." She drug out her words, sarcasm lacing her tone.

"Oh yes… _'to be able to help you, you have to trust me,' _followed by, _'the only way you will __**trust**__ me is if I tell you the __**truth**__;_' and wrapped up with, _'I have resolved to never lie to you again.'" _ She placed emphasis on the words trust and truth in each recall of my words before bringing her eyes to mine. Leveling me with a steady gaze, she asked quietly, _"_Does that ring any bells?"

"I meant every word of that." I returned her gaze with narrowed eyes and said, "I have not lied to you one time since that night." Silently I begged, '_Please don't push this.'_

Continuing to hold my gaze, she said, "Perhaps not outright, but there is a lot about you that I don't know. I think that tonight I saw a little bit of the real you for the very first time." She paused to gather her thoughts before she continued with a question that startled me with its sudden change of topic.

"Why do you hate being a Vampire?"

"I thought we already had this conversation, Sookie." My words were clipped, angry and impatient. "I told you we are always at the mercy of those who are above us, whether it is a sheriff or a monarch. A Vampire is truly never his own man." _Where was she going with this?_

"That tells me about Vampires." Her voice snapped with impatience that matched my own. "I want to know about you, Bill. Why don't _you_ like being a Vampire?"

"Mostly because of what it takes to be a Vampire." Expelling a weary sigh, I continued, "It is endless night, subterfuge, violence, limitations, and subjugation. To continue my existence as a Vampire I have to live in ways that I do not like and that run against the grain of the man that I was in my human life. I would have much preferred to grow old and die in the arms of my wife or my children."

"Except for the 'endless night' part, all of those things exist for most everyone." Her voice was gentle as she reached for my hand. "Tell me about _you_, Bill."

Taking my hand away and moving abruptly to stand, I said, "That may be true, but as a human, you can choose to live that way or you can choose to live another way." Once again, I felt unwanted pressure building in my chest and behind my eyes. "Surely by now you understand that there are few real choices for Vampires."

I found myself pacing in the small room; perhaps I was looking for an escape. I could not tell her about the choices I had been forced to make since becoming a Vampire. I could not…would not… go there again.

Continuing to stare at me, she let out a dissatisfied, "Hmpf…"

"What do you want me to say, Sookie?"

Travelling down this path of memories as she was asking me to do would make neither of us happy.

"What part of _**your**_ speech about being honest with me did _**you**_ not understand, Bill?" She'd narrowed her eyes at me and fixed me with a very direct stare.

"What part of what I've told you seemed dishonest, Sookie?" I fired back.

"Oh, it's not what you _said_, Bill; it's what you left out. There are the lies you tell and the lies you tell when you leave important stuff out. Bottom line…they are all lies." Her voice was softly accusing.

"Did you forget that my wife and children were lost to me? Did you forget that my _humanity_ was stolen from me?" My voice rose angrily as I continued, "Is that not enough to allow me to hate what I became?"

I hoped my anger would shut down Sookie's line of questioning. She was forcing me to go places I did not want to go.

"Come on Bill, we've talked about your wife and your children." My anger had no effect; she was undaunted, determined and relentless. "We've talked about the loss of your humanity and how you felt about all that. I'm not saying those things weren't terrible, and I can only imagine what it cost you." She paused as if carefully considering what to say next.

"Talk to me about what has happened to you _since_ then. Surely in the hundred and forty or so years before you met me there was _something_ good that happened during that time or was it all misery?" She slid forward in her seat. "Bill, to trust you, I need to _**know**_ you. You never let me in too much when we were a couple and I have trusted you with every dark secret I have. Can't you do the same with me?"

Her eyes were pleading with me. My mind told me that all she wanted to do was help me, but my heart was unwilling to walk over a very painful landscape. How could I tell her that, before I met her, the one good thing that happened to me since being made Vampire was also the source of my greatest heartache? How could I tell her that the aftermath of that one good thing directly influenced much of what happened between the two of us?

I came back to take my seat on the couch and took a sip of the now cooled blood. I grimaced at the taste and set it back on the coffee table.

"Would you like me to heat that up for you, Bill?"

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and slouched backward on the couch. "No, thanks, I am not hungry." I tried to decide what, if anything, I should tell her about my life in New Orleans.

Sookie sat quietly in the chair next to me. Neither of us spoke for several moments.

"Her name was Emma Rose Bennett."

Her name had come out suddenly, unexpectedly. My dead heart constricted convulsively and then lay still again. I had not said those five syllables aloud in eighty years. They felt strange coming out of my mouth.

"She was twenty-four years old when I met her." Time fell away as I began the story of the only woman I had truly loved since my wife, before I met Sookie. "She was a budding writer from Charleston. In college, she had been influenced by the work of Dion Fortune, one of the early female writers of occultism."

I looked down the long tunnel of my past as the memories and my words started to flow.

"She had an aunt who had a home in the Garden District, so she convinced her parents to let her visit. She wanted to be closer to 'the mystery, music, and atmosphere' of the French Quarter. It was all very romantic to her." The images were flashing before me like old portraits illuminated by lightening.

"It wasn't long before she moved out of her aunt's home; she'd found a small apartment in the Quarter. She wanted to 'rub elbows' with the writers who were congregating there in the mid-20s. She longed to be a mystery writer. She thought the seamy atmosphere of the Quarter would be good inspiration."

I felt something relax in me as tightly bound memories began to loosen and bubble to the surface of my memory. I didn't need to close my eyes to recall the vivid brilliance of her smile or the play of expressions that rippled across her face when she talked to me about the intricacies of her characters and plots. The warm glow of what Emma had been to me bloomed in my chest and spread through me awakening feelings that had been long buried.

"Do you know why many Vampires like the company of humans, Sookie?

"Other than the obvious…" she paused and blushed slightly. "You know, the whole feed 'n fuck thing. I guess I really don't. To hear Pam tell it, most of y'all see us as annoying two-legged cattle."

I smiled slightly and shook my head. That would be Pam's take on the vampire-human dynamic.

"No Sookie, it is because you remind us of what it is to live…to be alive." I swam in the depth of Sookie's eyes as she regarded me. "The frailty of humans makes the details of their lives important, pressing…_urgent. _Humans know and feel the whole range of human emotions: joy, disappointment, anticipation, surprise, optimism, regret, sorrow, contentment. Those emotions are lost to us over the centuries." I sat forward on the couch and pulled her hand into mine. "We get to feel them again…_live_ them again through humans. That was only a part of what Emma did for me…a part of what _**you**_ did for me."

Sookie's eyes glittered wetly. "How did you meet her?" she asked.

"I met her in a Storyville speakeasy."

I released Sookie's hand, sat back and took in a deep breath. Closing my eyes, the noise of the club, the press of the bodies, the syncopated rhythms of piano, strings and sax all came rushing back to me. Time fell away as I remembered seeing Emma the first time. I had found it difficult to keep my eyes off of her and very soon, I stopped trying.

"I heard her laughing." I remembered scanning the room to find the source of that laughter that had been so joyous and musical. "I found her amidst a small group of friends, men and women. She didn't seem to be paired off with anyone." I'd watched their group for awhile wondering how I could make my introductions to the petite dark-haired beauty. I opened my eyes to look at Sookie. "That was the way of young women back then. They didn't seem to want or need the protection of a man." I arched my eyebrow as I held her gaze.

She smirked at me and raised her own eyebrow in response.

"She went to the ladies room alone." I leaned my head on the back of the sofa and let the memories roll. "I caught her on the way back before she could rejoin her friends and asked if I could buy her a drink." The surprised and slightly wary look on Emma's face rose up in my memory. "She was reluctant at first, but I assured her it was safe…just one drink." I laughed softly. "I really had to step up my efforts to charm her into talking to me alone."

I paused as I felt Emma came to life again; the core of my body seemed to be warming as I recalled the details of how she looked that night. She was wearing one of those short, straight dresses with a narrow band running around her slender hips; the beads sparkled in the lights of the club. Her dark hair was cut short, curls surrounded her delicate face. Her eyes were emerald green and her nails were painted bright red. Mesmerized, my eyes had followed those red nails as she gestured with her hands. She was tiny and delicate, but as I found out later, a perfect fit for my arms.

Emma's image receded as I registered Sookie's wordless touch on my hand. I glanced over at her and saw the encouragement in her eyes.

"I finally convinced her to let me buy her a drink, and we talked about the things that people talk about when getting acquainted: how long have you lived here? What do you do? Who are your people? The usual topics." I smiled remembering it clearly. "Through it all she was charming, more shy than I would have imagined and extremely beautiful. I laughed more than I had in a very long time."

The steel bands that I had kept around these memories for years continued to loosen.

"Pretty soon, two of the men in her group came over to the table we had claimed." I recalled their mistrustful and challenging expressions. "One of them asked Emma if she was 'alright.' I feared that she would leave me then."

"What did she say?" Sookie seemed to be in thrall of my story and her encouragement made it easier to recall memories I'd kept buried for eighty years.

"She told them, _'I'm fine, y'all go on.'_ And then she had turned back to look at me and said, _'I am having a wonderful time.'" _From that moment on, I had been captivated. I wanted to know more about her, much, much more.

"We talked about another half hour before I asked if I could '_call on her_.'" I smirked at Sookie as I placed a little emphasis on this touchstone phrase from our history.

Chuckling softly, she said, "You and your 'calling' on people…" Smiling, she supposed, "I guess you did get to see her again."

"Oh yes." My lightheartedness vanished and was replaced by a dark memory. "I saw her again."

Reacting to the change in my tone, Sookie gently asked, "Do you need to stop?"

"No," I said shaking my head, "I've come this far, you might as well know the whole story."

Sitting up straighter on the sofa, I continued more briskly. "She did agree to see me again." I had called on her several nights in a row taking her to several of the dance halls and cabarets in both the upscale and seedy parts of New Orleans.

"We both loved music, she loved to dance. She taught me some of the popular dances. I only really knew how to waltz, but she taught me the Charleston, which I hated, because I thought I looked ridiculous doing it and the Tango and Foxtrot, which I liked because I found them to be sensual and sexy." I shifted in my seat as I recalled the feel of Emma's body pressing against me through the thin fabric of her dresses.

Grimacing I said, "She never could get me to learn the Black Bottom—that was simply too ridiculous for anyone to do." I'd been horrified the first time I saw anyone 'dance' the Blackbottom; it looked like someone in the midst of a seizure.

I looked up to see Sookie's eyes twinkling as she smiled behind the hand covering her mouth. She was working hard not to laugh out loud. I felt my own mouth quirking up slightly as I said, "Go ahead…say it…I know you are dying to."

"I'm sorry, Bill…I had a hard time imagining you at a _'rock concert'_…" She couldn't finish her sentence before she broke out into peals of laughter. "I'd have paid money to see you do The Charleston. Tango and Foxtrot, definitely, but _not _the Charleston. I have no clue what the Blackbottom is." Her laughter continued and while I was uncomfortable with the recall of the long-buried memories, I was glad for the lighter mood that was now between us. I felt a little more in control of myself.

"Do you want to hear the rest of this or not?" I mock scowled at her.

Laughter bubbled just below the surface as she cleared her throat. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she said, "Sorry Bill…yes, I want to hear it all." Quieting and becoming more serious, she said, "It sounds like she was really special."

"She was." Even now I could remember how besotted I had been.

"We continued to keep company…'dated' as you say now…for nearly two months. We enjoyed each other and I liked most of her friends. She made me feel as close to being human as I had in a long while."

"Couldn't she tell there was something different about you?" Sookie asked earnestly. "I mean, I see the little glow that surrounds you guys, but if y'all were dancing all the time she must have noticed that you are a little cooler than normal when she was holding your hand or when she kissed you. You don't eat or drink and I know she never saw you in the daytime. Didn't she wonder about any of that?"

"I think she must have noticed or suspected something earlier than she actually questioned me about it. Our nights out with her friends decreased as we spent more time together…became more involved. I think she curtailed that, at least in part, because she did not want them asking questions."

"Did she ever know that you're a Vampire?"

"Yes." I nodded, averting my gaze. My mood darkened again remembering the night that she confronted me. "She laid out all of the evidence that she had noticed with regard to my 'otherness' and asked me outright, 'What are you?' not _who_ are you, but '_what_ are you?'"

Sookie grunted a soft 'hmpf,' "Well that certainly sounds familiar. What did you tell her?"

"At first, I didn't know how to answer her." Emma had sat looking at me, practically vibrating with nervous anxiety and expecting rational answers to her questions. "I tried to laugh it off and provide plausible reasons for the physical characteristics she listed. I told her I had circulation problems to explain my cool hands and that I was a picky eater to explain my eating habits." In retrospect, those explanations had been simple but they were, on their face, true.

"I did tell her most of the truth about how I earned money: I was a stock broker. I told her that I worked from the open of the New York markets to the close of the West Coast markets. That would be from about 6 AM to 8 PM New Orleans time. I made her believe that was why I was unavailable during the day."

What I hadn't told her was that I was the broker for Sophie Ann Le Clerque, the Vampire Queen of Louisiana and that I oversaw the management of her stock accounts through a day man.

"Did she buy it?"

"For a while…I think she chose to believe me. We were fine until her Aunt started pressing her to meet me." We'd gone to a club that night. It had been loud; the rhythm of the drums, the wailing saxophone and Sippie Wallace's risqué lyrics had filled the air with sensual, cadenced music.

"Her Aunt wanted me to come to Sunday lunch at her home. When I told Emma I couldn't come, she became angry and walked away from me." That had been unexpected and my world fell in on itself as I watched her retreating back.

"I ran after her. When I caught up to her she was crying…I pulled her into my arms, but she struggled against me." Emma's fists had beaten at my chest as she cried. "She told me she _loved_ me, that she needed more from me… _wanted_ more for _us_ than just clubs, dancing, and drinking at night."

"Did you love her?" Sookie's voice was thick with emotion.

"I did…very much."

I loved Emma in a completely different way than I had loved my wife, Caroline. Caroline was a good woman who did her duty as a wife and mother; I had been content in my marriage. With Emma, I had known not only love, but passion, optimism, and joy. I had been much more than content, I had been _happy._

"Bill…" The ache in Sookie's voice echoed my own. "If this is too hard, you don't need to finish."

I just shook my head as I continued. "She told me that she didn't want to see me anymore."

If I could finish this maybe Sookie would understand at least a part of what had made me what I had become: withdrawn, guarded and alone; a man who came near to disobeying his Queen rather than form an attachment to another human woman.

"Emma knew instinctively that I was keeping something important from her." When she finally stopped struggling, it had been her strained, defeated voice that had nearly broken me. "She told me that if I couldn't be honest with her that there would be nothing for us...no love, no future." The anguish and distrust had been written large on her beautiful face.

Sookie leaned forward in her chair, watching my face as I spoke.

"I followed her home." That night, I asked myself repeatedly: _'What was the point of pursuing her? The truth would send her screaming.' _

"I knocked on her door praying that she would speak to me. Finally, she opened the door and I could tell she had been crying again. The only thing she had to say was, _'If you cannot trust me to tell me the truth, then we do not belong together.'_" Emma's eyes had been filled with the pain of knowing that she had been told lies and half truths.

Sookie's inhaled sharply as she registered the parallels between her story and Emma's; her eyes were wide and beginning to fill with tears. "Shall I stop?" Sookie shook her head and gestured for me to continue.

"I imagined that I was probably going to lose her regardless of the decision I made. I reasoned that no sane woman would want a relationship with a Vampire. So, I decided to tell her the truth." I looked back at Sookie to see if I should continue. When she nodded, I reluctantly took up the story again.

"I asked her if I could come in. When she said no, I stood on her doorstep and told her I was a Vampire." The look on Emma's face at my admission had not been what I was expecting.

"How did she take it?" Sookie's face had paled, her eyes were huge.

"She laughed."

"She…laughed?" Sookie's startled question was accompanied by an incredulous stare.

I nodded. "She began to list off all of the popular tell-tale signs attributed to Vampires: hairy palms, inability to be seen in mirrors or photographs, aversion to crosses and so on and told me that none of those applied to me. I told her the same thing that I told you: most are myths that we propagate about ourselves to avoid detection."

"Did she believe you?"

"No." Emma's refusal to believe me had been adamant. "She told me that was the craziest excuse that she had ever heard. She asked me if I was hiding a wife and children or a criminal past."

"How did you convince her?" Sookie questioned.

"I showed her my fangs."

Sookie's shocked look was a direct translation of the shock that had been on Emma's face that night so long ago. "Oh. My. God. Bill!" she exclaimed. "How did she react?"

"She screamed and slammed the door in my face." Though this was the reaction I had been expecting, I was bereft. I hadn't known what to do. Should I walk away? In retrospect, it might have been better if I had.

"I kept standing at her door. I could not make my feet move to walk away." I remembered thinking that if I was still standing there when the sun rose I would consider it a problem solved.

"I'm so, so sorry." Sookie's kind heart had kicked into overdrive. "I know it must have been hard to lose her like that."

"As it turns out, I didn't lose her. I was able to hear her on the other side of the door. After a few moments she opened it and asked me to come inside. To this day I cannot fully explain why she decided to trust me. From that night on we were together for another ten months."

I could see the surprise and relief on Sookie's face slowly replaced by a question, so I continued my story, "For ten months we were very happy. She told me that I might be a Vampire, but she had fallen in love with a good man, not a creature called Vampire." I tried to make my comments seem offhand, as if reciting a stranger's history.

"Initially she was a bit frightened of it, but then she was just curious. Like you," I said as I looked at Sookie. "She asked me about what it was like to be a Vampire the way some people might ask what it was like to be a vegetarian." Sookie's curiosity had been but one thing that had reminded me of Emma.

"Ultimately she just treated it like a quirk," I shared. "Like excessive neatness or a dislike of swimming."

As Emma's acceptance increased, I began to feel like I might have had the blessing of a 'normal' relationship, something I never had expected to have after being made Vampire.

"We moved in together," I said. "She began sleeping more during the day so that we were spending about the same amount of time together as would any human couple." The memories of how settled and content we had been moved freely in my mind. "When we were together we did surprisingly normal things: we read the paper and talked about current events, we went dancing, teased each other, argued and made up, laughed together and made love."

My voice trailed off as random pictures of Emma and I together began to surface. The feel of Emma's hand stroking the back of my head as I fed from her offered me a peace like none I had known as human or Vampire. Waking to find her curled up next to me, her head on my shoulder, her arm wrapped around my waist, and her leg thrown across my thighs had brought me intense pleasure and comfort. Sometimes we made love right away; the sweetness of her body and her willingness to love me in every way filled my heart. I loved looking in her beautiful green eyes as I entered her. They always widened slightly on the first thrust, but soon settled to gaze on me with a love and trust that I did not see again until I made love to Sookie that very first time.

Sometimes Emma and I would just lie in bed talking. She liked talking out the plot of her latest story or about the trouble she was having in finishing a story, what she called her 'writer's block.' Sometimes she asked me questions about a man's perspective: _'What would a man do about this?'_ or '_Would a man use words like that?'_ Occasionally she was successful in selling one of her stories to the ladies magazines of the day and when she did, those were very happy times in our home. Whether making love, talking or simply being together quietly, being with Emma brought me peace and made me feel complete.

Of course, Emma had wanted know everything about me and often asked about my life before being made Vampire as well as questions about my work. I shared details of my work as a stock broker, but I purposely avoided talking about the darker aspects of being a Vampire. It was a mistake that I would later come to regret.

"Bill!" I startled as I realized that Sookie had been calling my name.

"Sorry; I just got caught up in remembering." I smiled, but it felt strained and unnatural. "I haven't had these memories out of the closet in a very long time."

"What happened to her?"

"I had to let her go." The words felt like ashes in my mouth.

Shocked, Sookie almost shouted, "What! Why?"

"Do you remember asking me if I had ever had a bond with anyone?" It had been the night of Victor Madden's assignation at Fangtasia.

"Yes." She drew the word out and paled as she began to put the pieces together.

"I bonded with Emma Rose." The memory was as clear as if it happened a moment ago. A myriad of emotions had played across her face as I explained both the process and ramifications of bonding: initial fear and suspicion, followed by trust, then anticipation.

Wanting Sookie to know it all, I continued. "We had already mutually exchanged blood twice; a third exchange would have completed the bond. I wanted her to know what that meant, so I explained what she would feel…what I would feel…if the bond was completed."

"How did she take it?"

Looking as Sookie, I said, "After I answered all of her questions, she said she loved me and _wanted_ to be able to 'feel' me. I reminded her that I would be able to sense her emotions and that she would not be able to hide anything from me. I warned her that her emotions might be intensified, especially during lovemaking, but reassured her that I could not make her feel something that she didn't want to feel. Finally, she said that it was okay. It was what she wanted."

Emma's eyes had shimmered with love as she told me that she wanted that closeness, that it would make her feel safe and loved. By agreeing to bond with me, she was literally giving the deepest part of herself into my care. I had been overwhelmed by her trust.

"How long were you together?"

"Sixty three years."

Sookie reared back in her seat. "It must be getting late. I'm confused. Did I hear you right? Her tone bewildered, she asked, "'Cause if I did, y'all were together for a_ long_ time…well into her 80s."

"You heard correctly."

A heavy stone sat on my chest as the familiar knife of agony twisted in my gut.

"O…kay…" Her drawn out response indicated her lingering confusion.

"Emma and I went out one night not long after her twenty-fifth birthday." She had been glowing that night. "We were in Pete Lala's, a jazz club in Storyville; King Oliver's Creole Jazz Band was supposed to play. There was a huge crowd that night."

Once again, the present fell away as I moved through the events of that night. We had been happy and had things to celebrate as we drove through the light rain that had been falling all evening. Not only was it Emma's birthday, but she had also received a letter from Nash's magazine offering to publish one of her stories. Her joy and feeling of accomplishment made her look especially beautiful and I felt, not for the first time, how lucky I was to have her on my arm.

"The club was in full swing," I told Sookie. "I seated Emma at one of the few remaining tables and went to the bar to get Emma's favorite drink: a gin and tonic." I registered Sookie's look of surprise at the coincidence. "I was trying to get the bartender's attention when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Andre; he was there with Sophie Anne."

The remembered feeling of cold dread balled my hands into fists.

Sookie's arm slide protectively over her waist at the mention of Andre's name. "What did he want?" she whispered.

"Everything," I replied.


	11. Chapter 11: Pain

**AN:** I have been truly humbled by the positive responses to this story. So many of you have taken to the time to write very thoughtful comments and ask some very good questions. It makes the effort worthwhile when I realize that so many of you seem to be entertained by my efforts.

**Joyindenver** is my excellent beta. She pushes, nags and harangues in all the right ways to make sure I do the best work I can. For that, she has my eternal thanks. If you spot errors, please understand that they are all mine and due to revisions that I made after her first-rate beta work.

**Charlaine Harris** is the mother to all whose names you recognize. Emma is mine. However, Emma Rose Bennett is the name of a real girl who lived in Charleston in the 1920s. Beyond that I know nothing about her.

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><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

"_The club was in full swing," I told Sookie. "I seated Emma at one of the few remaining tables and went to the bar to get Emma's favorite drink: a gin and tonic." I registered Sookie's look of surprise at the coincidence. "I was trying to get the bartender's attention when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Andre; he was there with Sophie Anne." _

_The remembered feeling of cold dread balled my hands into fists._

_Sookie's arm slide protectively over her waist at the mention of Andre's name. "What did he want?" she whispered. _

"_Everything," I replied_.

Sookie's eyes locked on mine shining with dread. Her desire to know Emma's story warred with her fear of what she might hear. Her own history with Andre justified her fear. Even knowing that, I owed it to her and I owed it to Emma to tell her the whole story.

"Andre gripped my arm and guided me back to our table. He introduced himself and asked us to join him and Sophie Ann at their table." Andre had introduced himself as 'my good friend,' his most charming smile plastered on his face. The smile had not reached his eyes. "I had no time to warn her about who she was going to meet. I couldn't caution her to be careful about what she said about us."

A feeling of cold dread ran through me now as it had done that night.

Walking to their table I realized that I had made a huge mistake in purposefully keeping Emma out of Vampire politics. She knew almost nothing of our world let alone anything about Vampire Queens and the need to temper her comments in the Queen's presence. I told myself I did it to protect her when in reality, I didn't want her to fear and reject me for the world I was forced to inhabit.

Sookie's eyes were fixed on me, wide-eyed with fear for a woman who was now long dead. I felt certain that she too was thinking of the consequences of my poor decision.

"I walked with Emma and Andre over to Queen's table," I continued. "I prayed the whole way there that we could just make an appearance and go back to our evening. Emma felt my tension through the bond and my grip on her hand. She seemed to understand that these were influential people to whom I must defer." Emma's grip on my hand had been almost equally tight, her smile bright, but forced as we neared the table.

"When we got to the Queen's table, Emma was polite and reserved allowing me to do most of the talking." Andre had pulled Emma away from me and seated her between himself and Sophie Ann. I was left to sit nearly across the table to observe the beginning of our end. "Everything was going reasonably well until Sophie Ann asked Emma how long we had been together. In Emma's mind there was no reason to lie. She told her that we had been together for a year." She had looked at me with love in her eyes as she'd said it.

I watched as Sophie Ann raised her eyebrows at Emma's response. It was enough to let me know that whatever happiness I'd had with Emma was nearing its end.

"Was the Queen angry?" Sookie's tension was palpable.

"Any human watching the scene would probably say 'no.'"

Sophie Anne had always been master of covering her true reactions. "She laughed and told Emma that she was a lucky girl and that I was a real 'catch.' Andre had said nothing as he watched through narrowed eyes. "Andre just looked disgusted; he could smell my blood in Emma and guessed that we were regular lovers if not fully bonded."

Andre's face rose up in my memory. My gut roiled as I recalled his hateful speculative glare.

"The next night, I was summoned to appear before the Queen in her audience chamber." Even now the memory is vividly painful. "I was first on her agenda. I was forced to kneel at her feet in submission to explain why I thought having any kind of relationship with an unglamoured human was acceptable. Everything I said as I tried to explain was laughed at and ridiculed not only by the Queen and Andre, but also by the other Vampires present. She wanted to make sure that everyone knew of my 'stupidity' at endangering our kind."

"She finally released me just before dawn with one final command: end my relationship with Emma." The Queen's questioning and ridicule had gone on for hours while I remained on my knees, head bowed, to reinforce the concept of obedience to her will.

After all these years, the Queen's high-pitched, near child-like voice still rang in my ears_, "If she knows about you, then she knows about us. Get rid of her or turn her. Immediately." _I had been desperate hearing her command.

"I wanted to beg the Queen to let me leave the area with Emma or find some other solution, but I knew if I did, she would turn the matter over to someone else to resolve. If I tried to run with Emma, she would track us down. I didn't care about the consequences to me, but I knew Emma's life was at stake. The Queen was determined that my relationship with Emma would not continue, and I feared that Andre would get further involved. I felt, that for Emma's safety, I had no choice but to end it with her."

"Bill…" Her voice cracked with emotion as Sookie said my name; tears glistened as they slid down her face.

"Don't," I barked sharply. "This is hard enough for me. I cannot handle your tears."

Sookie got up and disappeared into the bathroom. Filled with a hollowed out and disjointed feeling, I sat there staring unwillingly into the memories of my last hours with Emma. They had been the worst of my existence to that point.

The next evening a knock on our door had had Emma running to answer it. She was smiling broadly when she came into the living room with her hand tucked in the crook of Andre's arm. _'Look who's come to visit, darling. Your friend from the other night at the club.' _Her welcome of him into our home had been that of a good southern woman. She had had no idea that he was there to oversee the end our life together.

Sookie returned to her seat. Her face looked raw and her eyes were red, but the tears had stopped. "I'm sorry." She said as she waited for me to continue.

"I had been given three options: kill Emma, turn her, or send her away. I think you can surmise what I chose and why I chose it. Killing her was not an option, nor could I ever inflict this existence on another human being." The thought of stealing Emma's life, extinguishing her vibrancy had made me physically ill. "I glamoured her into forgetting me."

At the Queen's command, Andre had come to our home to watch as I glamoured Emma. While he watched, I replaced our happiness with memories of frequent fights and disagreements. I glamoured away our mutual commitment and replaced it with the belief that she had been the one to end our relationship. In her mind I had become the _boyfriend_ that just didn't work out. Those false memories coupled with a planted general dislike of New Orleans and its atmosphere had left her glad to be returning home admitting to her parents that they had been right.

I looked at Sookie. She was biting the inside of her cheek and twisting her hands in her lap, but there were no tears. Silently I thanked her for that.

"After I had glamoured her, Andre sat with her reinforcing my glamour and her general dislike of New Orleans while I went to our bedroom and packed her things."

As I packed, I had been able to attach reminiscence to almost every item I had placed in her suitcases: the lace nightgowns I had delighted in taking off of her body, the silk underwear and stockings that she liked to wear to please me and tease me, the dresses that she had worn on our nights out. Hair brushes, a hand mirror, her make-up and night cream…more items reminding me of her that, to this day, I can close my eyes and recall. Each item had a piece of us going into a suitcase that she would carry away with her…away from me".

I had faltered when I got to her jewelry case. I had given her several small items of jewelry: a necklace of blue lapis glass beads that she had admired on one of our evening strolls, a pair of silver marcasite and garnet earrings and matching bracelet for the first sale of one her stories, a white gold filigree ring with emeralds that matched her eyes and was a token of my promise to love her forever. As I had taken each one from the jewelry case, I had felt the last tangible evidence of our love begin to erode. I had slowly, but surely excised evidence of our love from her life.

For her, these items that I'd packed as memories would simply be _her things_. She would not associate these things with the lovemaking, the quiet conversations, the laughter or the fun. She would not associate them with me.

Feeling my self control threatened, I cleared my throat and continued. "When I returned to the living room with Emma's suitcases, Andre _introduced_ me to her. I played my part: I'd been 'hired' to help her pack her things and close up the house that she rented...our house."

Andre's introduction had caused a quick look to pass across Emma's face: a slight wrinkling of her brow signaling brief recognition. But the look passed quickly as she smiled and thanked me, like she would any helpful stranger. All I had been able to do was smile back and tell her she was welcome. Her beautiful face had held that vaguely blank look of one under heavy glamour and she had seemed perfectly content with the illusion that had been created for her.

"Where did she go, Bill?" Sookie's asked gently.

"I'd already bought her train tickets back to Charleston and put them in her handbag." I was on autopilot now as the scenes rolled through my mind, one right after the other. "She would have one night at her Aunt's home before the train left at 4:30 the next afternoon. She had a sleeping compartment.

Andre had called a cab, I continued. When it arrived, he and I carried her bags to the car. He helped her into the back seat as I loaded her bags in the back. When he closed her door, the cab pulled away from the curb."

Sookie gaze was fixed on my face. I turned away from her. I couldn't look at her as I struggled to finish the last part of this painful chapter; it was much easier to focus on the fireplace and on the collection of family pictures that were arranged on the mantle.

"The cab pulled away and Andre rounded on me." A matter-of-fact tone continued to color my voice. "He told me, in no uncertain terms, that the Queen was still very angry and that I had used my one and only screw up." Andre's narrow, feral face had been a mask of threat. "There would be no future liaisons beyond the feed, fuck and glamour variety."

Andre's actual words had been more genteel than what I told Sookie, but ultimately just as deadly. Andre had snarled his warning at me_, 'If you __**ever**__ do anything like this again…anything that could expose us, then kneeling in humiliation in the Queen's court will be the absolute least of your worries.'_ Having had delivered his warning, he had left me staring down the street in the direction Emma's cab had gone.

"I made sure Andre was gone and then I took off running." Sookie's hand fisted over her mouth; I knew she was fighting back tears again. "I made it to her Aunt's home just in time to see her cab pull up."

It had been late and the lights were off in her Aunt's home. I'd waited in the shadows to make sure that someone was home. After a few minutes the porch light flicked on and her Aunt opened the door. Emma's explanation was what we had planted in her memory: she had grown tired of the fighting, we had broken up and she wanted to go home. Her Aunt had taken her into the house, and I waited outside until nearly dawn.

My jaw muscles twitched as I clenched my teeth willing my tears not to fall.

"That was the last time I saw her."

That was all of it. I hadn't relived those memories of the last eighty years until now. I didn't feel better; I didn't feel worse. I was hollow. Empty.

"After that," I said. "I returned to the life I had lived until I was called to find and investigate you."

I could not explain to Sookie how desolate that life had been, so I didn't. "I returned to my books, my music, my routines and Sophie Ann's investments." It had meant that I also went back to rising alone and facing the prospect of an eternity of dull, meaningless routine.

"Do you know what happened to her?" Her question was equal parts curiosity and sympathy.

"Yes." I nodded. "Periodically, I paid private detectives to check on her. She married an old sweetheart and had three children, two boys and a girl. She died of a massive stroke at age 83 in 1987. I never knew if she continued her writing. I've visited her grave several times over the years."

The visits to her grave had allowed me to think about her freely. They had allowed me to grieve openly. They had allowed me to remember _us._

Sookie moved from her chair and sat next to me on the old couch. She said nothing as she put her arm around my shoulders and held my hand, gently sweeping her thumb over my knuckles.

I could not let the comfort of her embrace sway me; I had a few more things I needed to say.

"Sookie, _nothing_ I have told you excuses what I did to you. I made many of the same mistakes with you as I did with Emma, along with a few new ones. I don't know if you can, or should, ever truly forgive me."

Sookie continued to sit silently for a few moments before rising suddenly to move back to her chair. Her face was taut as she sat completely still, staring at some distant point in the room.

"Bill, you had many chances to bond with me." Her voice was low and anxious. "Is this the reason why you didn't?" Anguish bubbled to the surface as her old feelings of betrayal were remembered. "Was it because you knew you would have to give me over to the Queen?"

"Sookie, to my knowledge there was never any plan on the Queen's part to take you away, bind you to her, or turn you." I desperately wanted to reassure her. "It wasn't until Rhodes, when you had proved just a small portion of your real talent and value that Andre stepped in out of blind loyalty to the Queen and tried to force a bond on you. Unless the Queen forbade it, he would have taken you to New Orleans where you would have been in continuous service."

"As much as I dislike Eric and despised the fact that you were bonded to him," I swallowed hard before continuing, "I am glad that he was there to circumvent Andre's attempt to bind you to him. It really was an act of protection for you, and it was very risky for him." I never wanted Sookie to have any idea of what her life would have become…what _she_ would have become had Eric not intervened.

I knew that she still had doubts about trusting me; it showed in her eyes as she regarded me. I had told her the truth: Sophie Ann wanted her services and her loyalty, not her blood or body. But Sookie had also been right about the other reason I never bonded with her: even after I fell in love with her, I had resisted out of fear of losing her. After Emma, I wouldn't have been able to go through it again.

"Sookie, it is only fair that you should know why I never bonded with you. For sixty-seven years, until the day she died, the faint murmur of Emma's emotions hummed in my consciousness. They reminded me of her, that what we'd had was real and because of that, I felt less alone."

Recalling the night she died, I felt like I was burning alive from the inside. My awareness of her had blipped out like lights suddenly extinguished in a lightning storm. Isolation and emptiness had blanketed me. The void left by the end of her life had been so total that I was brought to my knees, unable to connect to anything real, or good. Emma had been the slender connection that had allowed me to rise each day and eke out an existence. The pain had been so great that I had decided at that moment, that I would rather be alone for eternity than to bear that kind of loss again.

"When she died, it was loss like none I had ever experienced. Sookie, I could not go through that again. I don't want to hurt you, but that is the truth."

Rousing from the well of memories, I was shocked to see Sookie sitting rigidly in her chair with a look of wariness and dread on her face. I could hear her heart racing, her body language closed and defensive. One arm hugged her waist and the other crossed her chest, her clenched fist resting over her heart as if to keep it from beating out of her chest or from being ripped from it.

"Bill," her voice was low and strained, "did you love me when we had sex the first time?"

A cold knot of alarm formed in my stomach. _Why was she asking this now? _

Sookie's eyes watched me with dread as she waited for my answer. I wanted desperately to look away, but could not. I had promised her the truth, but I knew that an honest answer would hurt her beyond measure. I would lose her forever.

"Sookie, why are you asking me that now?

"Answer me, Bill." Her face was taut with dismay as if waiting a fatal diagnosis.

"I don't think I would have admitted it to myself if I did." Finding no way to soften my next words, I continued, "So, the most honest answer is probably 'no.'"

The words had barely left my mouth when Sookie shot up out of her chair snatched up her empty iced tea glass and my nearly full bottle of blood. Without a word she fled into the kitchen.

"Sookie!" I called as I leapt up to follow her. "Please believe me," I pleaded. "Our lovemaking was not part of some conscious, calculated effort to win your affections." The rigidity of her retreating back damned me with her pain.

When I reached the kitchen, she was standing in front of the sink, perfectly still, with her back to me.

"You were hurting and I was hurting for you," I said. "It just happened; I didn't plan it. Our lovemaking was not because I was sent by the Queen." I willed her to believe me.

She had leaned forward, her arms spread wide across the edge of the counter top supporting her body. Her head hung down as she shook it from side to side in a weary gesture of pain and denial.

"Sookie, look at me. Please." I needed her to see the truth of my words. "I made love to you, because it felt like the right thing to do. I would have done _anything_ to comfort you that night."

She turned to look at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "You know…" her voice was low and strangled, "I wondered that night in New Orleans…" Her voice trailed off.

"Sookie. Please." What would I say? What _could_ I say?

"Eric forced you to tell me. I wondered..." She was twisting her hands together and her breathing was rapid and shallow like she was afraid, as if she was awaiting a physical blow. "I wondered…," she paused, swallowing convulsively. "I wondered if you loved me when you took my virginity." Her voice wavered as her resigned and bitter words felled me with their pain. "I told myself that you probably didn't." I was gutted by her anguish. "I didn't want to believe that. I didn't want to believe you would do that to me."

"You used me. You took the one thing I could never give anyone ever again." Hysteria bubbled in her raised voice. "I left the hospital. I wanted to kill, and maim, and scream. If we were still a couple when I found out I _**would**_ have killed you. I would have washed my hands in your blood to feel _anything_ other than the feeling of being used; of feeling like I was nothing but a stupid, hick barmaid for believing you, for _loving _you. But that what I was to you isn't it Bill: a stupid…hick…barmaid."

"Sookie! No! Please don't say that. Don't think that." Her whipped across the short distance between us and flayed me raw.

Her tears came in a torrent as she screamed. "Hearing you admit it, hearing you say those words makes me _feel_ _that way again_!" She took two quick steps forward and slapped me hard enough for my head to snap sideways. I stood still. My hands hung loose at my sides as she slapped me again. And again. I would stand willing to take her blows until she could no longer raise her arms. It would not have been enough.

Breathing hard and trembling, she stumbled slightly as she stepped back from me.

"Say something!" she shouted. Her face was contorted and flushed; her hair in wild disarray.

"There is _nothing_ I can say that will change the past or excuse my offense against you." The force of her blows hadn't hurt, but I was undone by her pain. There was truly nothing that I could say.

We stood, silent, staring at one another. There was a frightening wildness in Sookie's glare.

I wanted to offer comfort, but dared not take a step in her direction. Her fists were opening and closing as if still fighting the urge to lay me out or stake me.

The shrill ring of the phone startled both of us. Sookie tore her eyes from me to stare at it as if it was an alien object. Swiping her hands roughly across her face, she strode across the kitchen to answer the shrieking phone.

"Hello?" she barked; her voice sharp and impatient with anger. Silence filled her kitchen as she listened to the voice on the other end of the line. It was Sandy Seacrest, de Castro's lieutenant.

"Miss Stackhouse? This is Sandy Seacreast calling on behalf of his majesty, Felipe de Castro."

"Yes, Ms. Seacrest, I remember you." Fighting to gain control, Sookie cleared her throat slightly before asking, "What can I do for you?" She took another angry swipe at her eyes and wiped her hand on her pajama pants

"The King has asked me to inform you that you will be receiving a formal invitation to the wedding of Freyda, Queen of Oklahoma and Eric Northman." The bright spots of angry color staining Sookie's cheeks drained away. "The King asks that you return the RSVP card promptly to indicate that you will be attending as part of his retinue."

Sandy continued to rattle off a list of "to do's" as if she was reading a grocery list. "His majesty will, of course, provide your transportation and Mr. Compton will serve as your escort while traveling to Tulsa. Please check your e-mail for information regarding your flight and the anticipated dress requirements for the wedding weekend."

I watched as the fight flowed right out of Sookie. Her legs seemed to lose their strength as if she had been sucker punched. She sat heavily on the stool positioned below the phone, her shoulders slumped and her head was supported by the hand not pressing the receiver to her ear.

I had expected that I would be required to attend the wedding, but I had no idea that de Castro would be cruel enough to expect Sookie to go. There seemed to be no end to the misery that Vampires would heap upon her small shoulders.

"Please…uh…" Sookie struggled to get the words out. "Please give my regrets to the King and thank him for thinking of me, but I will not be able to attend the wedding." She closed her eyes as if willing Sandy to say 'okay' to bring an end to this dreadful conversation.

"Yes, Miss Stackhouse. His majesty said you might say something like that." The more Sandy talked, the more panicked Sookie looked. "He asked me to remind you that you have a contract with him to provide telepathic services. He expects to do a great deal of networking among the human guests and will require your services throughout the three day event to read the humans with which he comes in contact. His request falls within the requirements of your contract, and he expects that you will honor it."

Sookie stood there gripping the telephone, her mouth was working as if to speak, but no sound came out. I was surprised to find myself standing right in front of her. I couldn't recall moving.

"Miss Stackhouse?" When Sookie didn't respond, she called out more sharply, "Miss Stackhouse! Do you understand the King's instructions? He expects me to inform him before he goes to rest that you will attend as part of his retinue." Sandy's emphasis on 'do you understand' carried the weight of the King's command.

Sounding broken, Sookie replied, "Yes…yes, I understand. " The rough animation of her anger had given way to weary despair.

"Very good, Miss Stackhouse." The ever efficient Sandy had this chore ticked off her list. The smile in her voice was evident when she said, "I will let his majesty know that you will be in attendance. Good evening."

Sookie continued her white knuckled grip on the telephone until I reached forward to pry it out of her hand. As I hung it up she looked at me with that same shell shocked look in her eyes that she'd had when Pam unceremoniously escorted her out of Fangtasia the night she went to see Eric.

"I guess Eric was wrong." she whispered.

I didn't know to what she was referring, but the alarms that had been muted throughout this long, terrible night had suddenly begun to sound their warning once again.


	12. Chapter 12: Vegas

**AN:** Thanks to **TigerJan110** for submitting review number 171. That's Bill Compton's age (in the books) as of this writing. All of your reviews inspire me and humble me. Thank you for your continued interest; I will try my best not to disappoint you.

I cannot heap enough praise on **joyindenver**'s head. She is an excellent beta and wonderful FF author in her own right. All beta praise and glory go to her. If you spot mistakes, they are mine and not hers due to revisions made after her beta reading. Feel better soon, Joy!

All the kids belong to Charlaine Harris. I just like to play with them.

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><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

"_Very good, Miss Stackhouse." The ever efficient Sandy had this chore ticked off her list. The smile in her voice was evident when she said, "I'll let his majesty know that you will be in attendance. Good evening."_

_Sookie continued her white knuckled grip on the telephone until I reached forward to pry it out of her hand. As I hung it up she looked at me with that same shell shocked look in her eyes that she'd had when Pam unceremoniously escorted her out of Fangtasia the night she went to see Eric._

"_I guess Eric was wrong." she whispered._

I didn't know to what she was referring, but the alarms that had been muted throughout this long, terrible night had suddenly begun to sound their warning once again.

Even after I pried the phone out of Sookie's hand, she continued to sit there rigid and staring at some unknown spot, her face absolutely expressionless except for a white-washed look of shock. She was on overload and seemed to have shut down.

"Sookie." No response. "Sookie!" She slowly turned her face up to me. I was unnerved by her glassy, unblinking stare that seemed to look right through me.

"Sookie!" I reached out to pull her into my arms. .

"What?" She jerked out of my reach. "I hear you. Quit yelling at me!" She stood up quickly and walked out of the kitchen toward the front door. "You need to leave, Bill," she said as she opened the door.

"Sookie, I don't want to leave you like this. I know you are angry and I know you are hurt." She made a noise like 'pfftt.' "Please, let me talk to you just a bit more."

"Look," she said expelling a weary sigh, "Bill…" Her eyes closed and opened again slowly. "I am done for tonight. I can't talk about _you_ anymore, I can't talk about _me_ anymore and I sure can't talk about _us_ anymore. I just need to think. I can't handle anything else right now." Holding the door open wider, her tone became emphatic. "I need you to go home."

Whenever she felt pressured, Sookie had always needed time to process her own thoughts. I recognized her need for that time now. Much more would be headed her way before the deed of making Eric, Freyda's Consort was done. The more settled she was before this happened the better she would be able to handle it. I was still aghast that de Castro was making her attend the wedding.

"Sookie, you know I could hear Sandy's directives to you don't you?"

"Yes, I figured you heard them, but I don't want to talk about it. Not now." Her face was a carefully controlled mask. There were no tears, no anger, nothing. Her dominant emotion was a frantic impatience to get me out of the house as she shook the doorknob gripped in her right hand. "Bill, I really need for you to go now."

"I guess you leave me no choice." Hating to walk away from her, I went through the front door. "I'll call on you tomorrow?"

"I'm gonna' need a few days." Her voice was flat and emotionless. She wouldn't look at me.

"Alright. I will only call you only if I hear anything from or about Eric."

"Okay," she said tonelessly as she closed the door. I had been dismissed. The porch light snapped off before I got to the bottom of the porch stairs.

As I reached the edge of the cemetery, I glanced back. Sookie's old farmhouse was completely dark. She must have just fallen into bed without going through her usual nighttime routine.

I made the trip across the cemetery quickly. I wasn't surprised when my cell phone rang as I mounted the stairs to my front porch. I looked at the caller ID and as I expected, it Sandy Seacrest's name on the screen. Overhearing her at Sookie's, I figured I was on her contact list as well.

"Hello, Sandy."

"Bill. I have called to let you know that the King requires you in Nevada within two night's time. He is ready to hear your suggestions for his hotels and casinos. I suggest that you plan to be here at least four nights. Of course, the King will reimburse your travel costs including any costs of having to change your reservations should he require your services for a longer period."

"Please tell the King that I am ready to make my report. I will call Anubis tonight and make my reservations and will e-mail my itinerary as soon as the reservations are made. Will this be acceptable?"

"You are as efficient as I am, Bill." Sandy chuckled. "That is perfectly acceptable. I have arranged for a driver to pick you up at the airport. I look forward to your visit. Hopefully we'll have some time for at least one of the new shows. Travel safely, Bill."

Since de Castro's takeover, Sandy and I had worked together frequently and had always gotten along reasonably well. She and I had similar tastes in music, literature, and art, and whenever her schedule permitted, we had attended some of the shows in Las Vegas during some of my visits. She especially liked the Cirque de Soleil shows that were so prevalent in Vegas. As the King's lieutenant, getting premium tickets had never been a problem for her.

"Thank you, Sandy. You will be hearing from me soon. Good evening."

I opened my front door and went directly to my bathroom. I was weary. I hoped that a bath would give me some peace as I prepared to go to rest. Tonight had been beyond awful.

I was not sorry to have shared Emma's and my relationship with Sookie. Reliving _our_ relationship, however, had taken toll on both us. It was one thing for Sookie to suspect me of not having loved her, but it was quite another to have it confirmed. How could she ever trust me fully again? It was true that I hadn't loved her in the beginning, but over time I came to love her with the same intensity that I had loved Emma, and it had frightened me. I had fought doggedly against my feelings and in so doing damaged, possibly irreparably, my relationship with Sookie. I feared that I would have to resign myself to hoping for just friendship. At best.

The rest of my evening was consumed with preparations for Sookie's protection. Neither de Castro nor Eric had been specific about the nature of the threat to Sookie, but I feared that it had something to do with Freyda. I reasoned that de Castro's actions in Shreveport had been to reaffirm his protection of Sookie. He might not be have been able to demonstrate absolute control over his valuable asset, but he was able to show that she was loyal and would bend to his will.

Just as the last of the e-mails had been sent, I felt the strong pull of dawn. I went to my rest unsettled in both body and spirit. Tomorrow night, it was my hope that Sookie and I could begin rebuilding our relationship. Again.

The next night found me entering Merlotte's a good deal earlier than normal. Sensing my presence, Sookie turned to watch me as I walked in. The raised eyebrow and hard line of her mouth were eloquent expressions of her displeasure. I thought fleetingly about sitting in her section, but then opted to sit at the bar. It was probably better to let her set the pace tonight; she would approach me when she was ready.

_A new beginning_, I told myself. _A new beginning_. It had become a mantra and I was prepared to do what needed to be done to make things right between us.

Sam looked up as I slid on to one of the bar stools "How ya' doin', Bill? The usual?"

"I'm well, Sam. O neg is fine, thanks." Sam and I had always been cordial with one another, but would likely never be friends.

The microwave hummed as it warmed my blood. "You here to see Sookie?" Sam asked. I smiled at him as I reflected on the fact that we were in a bit of the same boat. I had always known that he loved Sookie, but at this point neither of us stood much of a chance with her.

"Yes. I have to be out of town for a few days, and I wanted to let her know," I said, taking my first sip of the warmed blood. It occurred to me suddenly that Sam would be useful in looking out for Sookie. "Are you going to be in town for a few days?" I asked.

"Not planning on goin' anywhere." A slight crease of worry formed between his eyes. "You need something?"

"Not for me. I'm concerned about Sookie." Sam's gaze searched her out. "Eric is tied up with Oklahoma and I won't be around for a few days." I hated to ask Sam for a favor, but knew he would gladly do anything for Sookie. "Would you mind seeing that she gets home safely after work? Just on the nights she works late. I've got Herveaux's Weres checking up on her during the day."

"Nah, I don't mind. Dean usually likes a good run before going to bed." Sam's grin told me he looked forward to seeing Sookie home in his preferred shifter form.

"Thank you, I'm much obliged, but you may want to keep it between the two of us. You know Sookie doesn't much like feeling crowded."

"I hear ya," Sam said laughing softly. He caught my eye and raised his eyebrows in a sign that Sookie was heading in our direction. Our conversation came to an abrupt halt.

Sookie came to the server's end of the bar to drop off money from a customer's check. Without a word, Sam took the money and turned to the register to make change.

"Bill," her voice was low, flat and unwelcoming, "I thought you were going to give me a little time. I'm workin' and can't really talk about any of that right now."

"I'm only here to let you know that I have been summoned to Las Vegas. I will leave after first dark tomorrow night and will be gone until next Monday night. There is a small possibility that I might have to stay longer, but I don't really think that will happen."

"Fine," she briskly responded. "Anything else?" Her curt, one and two word answers, were a sure sign that she was still very upset. Given everything that had passed between us and the phone call from Nevada, I found her coldness understandable, even though I hated it.

"Yes. The Weres from the Long Tooth Pack will be coming by on your day shifts just to make sure you are okay." Her posture went rigid. "Bubba will be patrolling your woods at night. He will stay at my place when he goes to rest. You shouldn't notice any intrusion in your normal routines. Pam will also be checking in with you." I sipped my blood, waiting for her inevitable protests.

"Why?" she demanded.

"We've had this conversation, Sookie." I tried to sound matter of fact, but the impatience crept into my voice anyway. "You are an asset to Felipe de Castro's kingdom. He protects his assets." I took another swallow of blood hoping that the storm would be brief.

"I don't like it." She was exasperated and it showed. "I don't like Alcide's Weres havin' to put themselves out like that, and I'm sure Bubba has stuff he'd rather be doin." The stubborn set to her jaw told me that we might be in for a longer argument than I had hoped for.

"You are a Friend of the Pack and Bubba likes you," I countered. "This is no imposition. It is what you are due when it's needed."

Sookie opened her mouth to continue protesting when Sam interrupted. "Sookie, you got customers signaling for you." She favored both Sam and I with a glare before turning to check on her section.

"Give her a minute to calm down," Sam whispered. "She's been on edge all night."

I watched her as she made her rounds. Several of her tables had emptied and only two tables in her section had new customers. She was usually quick and efficient in taking her orders, refilling iced tea and fetching food from the kitchen, but tonight she seemed distracted. Several times she had to double back for some forgotten item. It was rare for customers to have to call for her attention. She usually 'heard' them and would get them what they wanted before they had time to ask aloud.

"Something special I should know about, Bill?" Sam's question called my attention away from Sookie.

Speaking quickly before Sookie returned, I said, "De Castro is making Sookie attend Eric's wedding in Tulsa."

"Shit." Sam was taken back. "You've got to be kiddin' me. No wonder she's been on edge."

I nodded my head and continued watching Sookie from the corner of my eye.

"What's expected that she should need watchin'?" Sam's protective nature had kicked in.

"My best guess is that de Castro is thinking one of two things: either Freyda is looking for a package deal that she doesn't have to pay for, or he is worried that with Eric out of the picture, any monarch might come looking for their own personal telepath." I didn't feel it wise to mention de Castro's concerns about a possible takeover attempt.

Sookie served her last customers their food before she headed back to the bar. She looked like she had calmed down a bit as she put her tray on the bar and turned to face me.

"How long is the protection going to go on?" she demanded.

"Probably until after the wedding," I replied. "De Castro needs to make it known that you are his asset. I'm fairly sure that is why he wants you at the wedding. There will be other monarchs there and you will be clearly a part of his retinue. It will be his 'hands off' message."

"Geez," she grumbled. "I hate this." Grabbing her tray, she stomped off to clear tables in her section. Even her ponytail seemed annoyed as it swung sharply with each hard step.

I sat at the bar and finished my Tru Blood, making idle conversation with Sam. Most of the restaurant had cleared out and there were only a few customers in the bar. Jane Bodehouse was seated on her regular stool watching some of the locals play pool.

Sookie returned to the bar with two more tabs to be rung up. Waiting for the change, she asked, "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"No, I just needed to let you know about my trip and your protection." She let out an exhausted sigh. "Is there anything I can do for you before I go?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Well, then, I guess I'll see you when you get back." She said, clearly ready for me to move on.

"I guess we will," I said. I paid my tab and left.

I went only as far as Sam's darkened front porch behind the bar to wait for Sookie's shift to end. Needing the night air and a little exertion to clear my head, I had run over to Merlotte's from my place and planned to shadow Sookie's drive home. I would make sure that she was safe, but I had meant what I said about giving her time and space to work through all that had passed between us. My few days away would help me keep that commitment.

The next evening found me at the airport boarding the flight to Las Vegas. The flight was uneventful and as promised the car _and Sandy_ were waiting at the airport for me. She'd rounded up tickets for a late performance of Celine Dion who was recently returned to Cesar's Palace. She was not a favorite of mine, but Sandy seemed excited about it. I wasn't scheduled to meet with de Castro until the next evening so I agreed to go. It was either that or sit in a hotel room and worry about Sookie.

My meetings with de Castro went about as I expected. He was receptive to my suggestions for his Vegas properties and complimented me on the quality of my efforts. As expected, he questioned me about Sookie. Most of the questions were fairly innocuous, but a few gave me pause: those that centered on Sookie's perceptions of him as an individual rather than him as king and those about her willingness to work in Vegas. However, it was my conversations with Sandy that the level of my alarm was raised considerably.

At the conclusion of my first meeting with the King, I had been instructed to work closely with Sandy on implementing the changes I had suggested. As our work continued over the next two nights, Sandy showed what seemed to be at first, only a casual interest in Sookie Stackhouse. It was on the second night of my stay that the questions became more focused and I became more worried.

"How is Sookie adjusting to life without Eric, Bill? That was quite a show she put on in Shreveport."

The question was asked genially enough, but there was an edge to Sandy's tone. To say that I was taken off guard by the question was an understatement. All of Sandy's questions about Sookie up to this point had been very general and in the same vein as those of the King. I had written them off as a test to see if my answers were consistent. How would I answer this very personal question and not give away too much information? I decided to go for the most general response possible.

"About as well as could be expected, Sandy."

"I'm not sure that answers my question." She said with a tight laugh. "I really don't know why the King put up with her outbursts in Shreveport except that he seems to be enamored of her. It baffles me, but I know he would prefer that she was in Las Vegas." Sandy watched my face carefully as she make this last statement.

"_Fuck!" _I thought to myself. I am not a man prone to vulgarities, but this one fit the occasion. Sandy continued to look at me waiting for a response. "Sookie has agreed to work for the king when he needs her and he has agreed to support her desire to stay in her home in Louisiana. What makes you think he wants her here?"

"Because he has said so." She harrumphed. "Honestly, I don't know what he sees in her or, for that matter, what _you _see in her. She seems like nothing but a lot of trouble to me. What _do _you see in her, Bill?"

I couldn't tell her what was in my heart so I fell back on 'the company line:' "She is the King's asset, Sandy. I am obliged to protect his asset."

"Another question not answered, Bill." I was not surprised by her skepticism, but I was not about to tell her about my feelings for Sookie.

And then the bombshell question: "Do you love her?" Sandy was not going to let this drop. I began to wonder if her questions were just fact checking for the King or if they were meant to serve some other purpose.

"I did at one point, but that point has passed." Not a lie and not the truth. "Why would you ask me that question?" I demanded.

It was Sandy's turn to be taken aback. "No reason." She said hurriedly. "I just wanted to know if you had fallen under the Telepath's spell. She's attractive and has her talents, but she is still just a bloodbag." Sandy's tone had become increasingly venomous. "I sometimes wonder if she isn't part witch with the way she keeps so many Vampires enthralled." She paused as if waiting for some response for me. I couldn't help but feel that whatever I said would be critically judged.

"Sandy, Sookie's telepathy alone makes her a valuable asset. However, she has shown her worth many times over, both before and after King de Castro's takeover. You know that. I have no designs on her other than to protect her as an asset of the King, _as I have been instructed_." Sandy searched my face looking for signs of subterfuge. While I had pledged to tell Sookie the truth, that pledge did not extend to Sandy Seacrest.

"Still seems to be just a lot of trouble to me," Sandy said shrugging her shoulders, "but she's not my problem." She changed the subject as we returned to discussing changes to de Castro's properties and the use of my database to attract upscale Vampire clientele.

On my last full night in Las Vegas, the specter of another threat to Sookie began to take shape as Sandy talked about the upcoming wedding.

"Are you ready to attend the extravaganza that will be the wedding in Oklahoma, Bill? I hope your little barmaid has a proper sense of how to dress." Sandy's voice still carried the same venomous sarcasm from the night before.

"Yes, I received your e-mail detailing both travel and dress requirements. Pam Ravenscroft will ensure that Sookie has the proper attire."

"Well it's a good thing. We can't have the King's companion looking like some trampy little milkmaid. The fact that she is actually a barmaid is bad enough." Sandy was nothing if not protective of her King's image.

I tried to keep the alarm out of my voice when I asked, "It was my understanding that I was to escort Sookie to the wedding."

"Oh, you are escorting her to Tulsa, but she will be with the King throughout the weekend. The King will be her escort to all of the major events and activities and she will occupy a bedroom in his suite. A separate bedroom, of course." Her face was neutral as she laid out these revelations, but there was an unmistakable smirk in her voice.

"I see. I'm glad you told me." I hoped my response conveyed nonchalance because what I was feeling was anything but.

Sandy was almost giddy when she said, "Oh don't worry about going stag, Bill. I will be your 'date.'" She laughed then as she leaned forward placing her hand on my arm and whispering, "You shouldn't have to babysit the King's newest obsession all weekend." She leaned back and smiled at me; her eyes were wide and expectant as she waited for my response.

Not knowing what else to do, I smiled back. "I'd be delighted to be your date, Sandy." Judging by Sandy's answering smile, it must have been the hoped for response. I, however, was seriously taken aback. I'd never seen Sandy act quite like this before and it placed a serious kink in my plan to stay close to Sookie while in Freyda's Tulsa compound.

"Well, it's a date then, but we'd better finish this up since you are leaving tomorrow night." With that Sandy's unusual behavior ceased and it was back to business as usual with the remainder of the night passing uneventfully.

On my last evening in Las Vegas, I met briefly with the King to receive any last minute instructions and to bid him goodbye before leaving for the airport. I was astonished when I entered the limousine to find Sandy already seated in the back. She slid over to make room for me on the back seat as I entered the car.

"I thought I would see you to the airport, Bill. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all; that's very considerate of you, Sandy. Thank you." _What the heck is going on? _I wondered. "I hate to pull you away from your busy schedule just to escort me to the airport."

She laughed gently and rested her hand lightly on my thigh. "Oh, it's no problem. Your visit helped the King establish a new focus for his properties and he is excited about the possibilities. If the King is excited, then I am too." She patted my thigh lightly, took her hand away and settled back in her seat.

I didn't know what to think. This was a Sandy with which I was unfamiliar.

The limousine pulled away from the curb to make its way down Las Vegas Boulevard for the short trip to the airport. As we neared the Anubis check-in area, Sandy swiveled in her seat and leaned toward me. "You'll be sure to contact me if you have any questions about Tulsa, won't you?" Had she been human, I would have been able to feel her breath on my cheek.

"Absolutely. Thanks for everything, Sandy. I'll see you in Tulsa." I felt my words stutter out too quickly and tried not to hurry my exit from the car.

"Bill," Sandy called. I turned to look at her and noticed that the soft girlish smile that had illuminated her face still played about her lips, but it no longer reached her eyes. "Be sure to tell your little _barmaid_ that she better watch her behavior in Tulsa. It could go very badly for her if she were to embarrass the King." As quickly as her demeanor changed, it changed back again. Sandy's face was once again lit by a sweet smile and gentle eyes. It was as if those harsh words had never been spoken.

I was relieved when the driver stepped forward to close her door. As the limousine pulled away I was left standing, slightly dumbfounded, in front of McCarran International Airport. The little intelligence I'd been able to gather certainly didn't bode well for Sookie and the last two nights with Sandy seemed not to bode well for me.


	13. Chapter 13: Plans

**AN:** I will always start the same way: thank you for all of you who have reviewed, alerted and favorited. It is the only payment FF authors receive and I know how much I appreciate it.

As always, all honor, praise and glory in the FF world goes to **joyindenver**, my terrific beta.

The characters whose names you recognize belong to Charlaine Harris; she is the mother to them all. They have simply become my good friends.

**Previously… **

_"Bill," Sandy called. I turned to look at her and noticed that the soft girlish smile that had illuminated her face still played about her lips, but it no longer reached her eyes. "Be sure to tell your little__barmaid__that she better watch her behavior in Tulsa. It could go very badly for her if she were to embarrass the King." As quickly as her demeanor changed, it changed back again. Sandy's face was once again lit by a sweet smile and gentle eyes. It was as if those harsh words had never been spoken._

_I was relieved when the driver stepped forward to close her door. As the limousine pulled away I was left standing, slightly dumbfounded, in front of McCarran International Airport. The little intelligence I'd been able to gather certainly didn't bode well for Sookie and the last two nights with Sandy seemed not to bode well for me._

I boarded the plane with one thought in mind: Sookie and I needed a plan. Hopefully, the information I collected in Las Vegas combined with anything we might get from Pam or Eric would help us prepare for the trip to Tulsa. What had been a concern about Freyda's intentions or the amorphous threats of other monarchs had suddenly crystallized into a threat much closer to home: Felipe de Castro. I worried that he had designs on much more than Sookie's telepathy.

"May I offer you a beverage, Mr. Compton?" A silky, feminine voice brought me back to the present.

"Forgive me. What did you say?"

"May I offer you something to drink?" Her offer was punctuated with a brilliant smile.

"Oh. Yes. A Tru Blood, 'O' Negative if you have it. Thank you." The flight attendant nodded as she walked behind me to continue taking the orders of the other first class passengers. Glancing out the window, I was astonished to find that we were already in the air. I had been so absorbed in my thoughts, I'd missed the takeoff.

I settled back in my seat and looked out into the dark night at 30,000 feet. The clear, moonless night made the scattered ground lights look like small, brilliant diamonds scattered on a velvet landscape. From this vantage point everything looked simple and clean. How deceiving. Very little was simple or clean in the world of Vampires. Feeling myself becoming ill tempered I turned away from the window, reclined my seat, and willed myself to relax.

"Here you are, Sir." The flight attendant's shoulder brushed mine as she leaned over the empty aisle seat to lower my tray and pour the blood into a warmed glass. "Enjoy your flight." she said turning her head so that her face was mere inches from mine. She was close enough that I could smell her mint toothpaste and the perfume that she wore. As I brought my eyes to her's, her clear gaze and upturned quirk of her lips seemed to be inviting me to have more than just a good flight. "My name is Ashley," she said as she stretched her arm up to point out the call button, the action allowing her full breasts to be shown to their best advantage beneath the starched white shirt. "You just ring the call button here if there's _anything_ you need," she purred. Flashing another brilliant, slightly suggestive smile, patted my shoulder lightly before turning to continue down the aisle.

"I will." I said, as I caught her eye and smiled back. "Thank you…Ashley." I might not have a pulse, but this engaging little interchange had stroked my apparently alive and well male ego. It was a small bright spot in an otherwise dreary few days. My mental grin was evidence of how long it had been since a young woman had flirted with me so openly.

I settled into my seat and sipped my blood bemused by the forwardness of today's young women when it hit me:

Flirting.

Sandy.

Damn.

Could Sandy's uncharacteristic behavior been _flirting? _Surely not. Why would she flirt with me? I wouldn't even call us friends. Friendly colleagues at best. The whole idea of Sandy flirting with me was too ludicrous to even consider. But…the soft smiles…the light touches…her hand resting on my thigh…_was_ she flirting? I couldn't fathom it, and I would definitely need to consider it, but not now. As Sookie might say: I had other fish to fry.

With an hour and a half left in the flight I decided to work on trying to put the pieces together. If Sookie and I were going to develop a plan for our time in Tulsa then I wanted to know as much as possible about the players. For the remainder of the flight, I worked on my laptop doing research through my database on Freyda and her retinue as well as making notes about my visit to Las Vegas. I'd found that when I wrote down what seemed, at first glance, to be disparate information and impressions a pattern would soon emerge. Very soon the noise of the flight, Ashley's flirting and my musings about Sandy fell away as I became absorbed in my work.

"…_turn off all electronic devices and return them to the overhead bins or stow them under the seat in front of you. Please place your seats and tray tables in their full upright and locked positions." _

I was roused from my research by the flight attendant's announcement. As I closed my laptop and stowed it in the overhead compartment, _Ashley_ came by to collect my Tru Blood bottle and glass. With a wink and a smile she managed to brush her fingers against mine in the process. What had flattered me earlier only irritated me now. I was still unnerved at the prospect that Sandy was interested in me in any way other than as a colleague.

My time had been well used. I had managed to record quite a few bits of information and impressions from my trip to Las Vegas and had found out some interesting things about Freyda and her Second, a full blooded Cherokee named Avinash who was turned in the 1840's. I was also interested to learn that he was Freyda's child. In a confrontation, his loyalty to his maker and his physical size would make him a formidable foe.

As the plane touched down I thought about the week ahead and looked forward to seeing Sookie again. Nightly check-ins with Pam, Bubba, and Herveux indicated that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred as Sookie went about her usual routines. The only interesting piece of news had been that business at Merlotte's seemed to be picking up again as the novelty of Vic's Roadhouse, Madden's bar and restaurant, seemed to be wearing off. I was relieved that it had been business as usual for Sookie.

Monday evening, I rose with one goal in mind: begin the repair work with Sookie. We would need to move past our personal troubles so that we could be united in making a plan for our time in Tulsa.

I arrived at Merlotte's about an hour before closing like I had been for weeks prior to our blow-up. I stood just inside the doorway for a few moments watching her. She was busily zipping from table to table filling orders and talking with the locals. Her step seemed lighter and her smile seemed less strained than it had before I left.

It didn't take her long to spot me as I made my way to the bar. Instead of the scowl I was expecting, I got a small, tentative smile. I nodded in her direction, deciding that I would let her set the tone and the pace of our reunion. Kennedy was behind the bar and deep in conversation with Danny Prideaux, Sam's occasional bouncer. When she spotted me, she put a Tru Blood in the microwave and then brought it to me, nodding slightly before going back to her conversation with Danny.

Sookie came to the bar to close out a tab. "Hi, Bill. " She said as she shifted nervously from foot to foot waiting for her change. "Listen, I'm about to take a break. "Can we talk a little?" she asked, her voice lilting upward slightly with the question. When I nodded my assent, she turned to deliver her change. As she headed toward the hallway leading to Sam's office and the employee's entrance, I got up to follow her.

I found her right outside the employee's door with her hands jammed into the pockets of the sweater she wore over her uniform. The weather had grown cool enough that I could see little puffs of air emanating from her nostrils as she breathed. Spotting me, she motioned me over to Sam's porch so that we could sit for a bit. She skittered ahead of me to the porch, where she seated herself in one of the chairs, back straight, hands folded in her lap, knees together, feet crossed at the ankles. With her pony tail and worried expression, she looked rather like a little girl, in deep trouble, waiting outside the principal's office. With her nervousness clearly on display, I kept silent feeling it best to let her initiate the conversation.

She drew in a deep breath. "How was your trip?" She looked up as if gauging my reaction to her innocuous question.

"It was fine. My meetings with the King seemed to go smoothly." My vague, disturbing suspicions would remain unspoken for the time being.

Sookie reached up and tightened her already meticulously gathered ponytail, another tell-tale sign of anxiety. Her hands went back to her lap where she clasped them together tightly.

"Listen, Bill…," she faltered as she looked out over the employee parking lot and shifted nervously in her seat. "I really need to apologize." She cut her eyes to me to look for my reaction.

"Sookie…," I paused. _What did I want to say?_ She looked at me expectantly. Somehow we had to move beyond our miserable past and try to find a way forward. Our well being might depend on it.

"Sookie, what happened the other night probably should have happened much sooner. I knew early on that you loved me. I may not have loved you in the beginning, but when I finally realized my love for you, it carried the same depth and intensity that I had with Emma. I know I should have been truthful and honored our relationship better than I did, but the more time that went by, the more terrified I became of losing you." Sookie's eyes were fixed on me and luminous in the reflected light of the parking lot.

"Every bit of what I have told you is as true as it is awful, but I can't just keep saying I'm sorry. That won't fix anything. All I can do, all _we_ can do, is move forward. I will try to rebuild your trust in me if you will let me." That was as straight forward as I knew how to be; it was up to her now.

Sookie rose from her chair on Sam's porch and stood with her back to me as she leaned on the porch rail. She was quiet as she stared out over the parking lot. Turning around and sitting propped on the rail, she said, "I'm sorry for hitting you." Her voice became suddenly choked with tears. "I was so hurt. I'm not like that…I shouldn't have…" her words caught in the tumble of emotions swirling through her.

"You couldn't hurt me, Sookie." I said gently. "You know that." She nodded silently, as she roughly scrubbed the tears from her eyes.

"I've got to get back inside, but I need to talk to you. Can you come by tomorrow? I'm off."

"Yes, I can come over tomorrow evening, but I am planning to see you home tonight if that is alright."

"Bill, you don't have to do that." Her eyes were still shiny with unshed tears. "Alcide's Weres wasted their time and Bubba just roamed my woods for nothing." Arching her eyebrow she said, "You didn't tell me that you were going to have Sam shift and follow me home as well."

I smiled at her and said, "Caught that did you?" She nodded as a little half smile formed on her lips.

My smile faded as I continued. "Until things settle down, Eric, the King, and I will all feel better if you are protected. Things are very unsettled right now; _please_ let us watch out for you."

"Settle down?" Sookie laughed derisively and crossed her arms over her chest. "When will things ever _settle down_?"

"Probably never," I said, sharing her sense of futility. Sookie just nodded her agreement.

She got up to go back inside, and I went along with her. The acrimony that had existed between us seemed to have abated. I would see her tomorrow night, and we could begin the road back. To _what_ I wasn't sure given what I had learned in Las Vegas.

The weather matched my mood as I walked through the cemetery the next evening. It was a dreary, cold, moonless winter night making the headstones rise like haunting specters along the pathway leading from my house to hers. How symbolic. Suspicions and half formed conclusions haunted me. I really didn't want to have to tell Sookie about what had transpired in Las Vegas and what she might have to deal with in Tulsa. I would take her and run, if I thought I could do it without kidnapping her. I had plenty of money and surely there existed a place where we could live without constant threat.

Sookie's smile was tentative as she opened the door. "Hi, Bill. Come on in, it's wet and cold tonight." She held the door open for me as I wiped my feet.

Sookie had always been beautiful to me, but the pink sweater and gray pants that she was wearing were lovely. Her hair was full and softly curled around her face and her nails were painted a pretty shade of pink. This was how she dressed when she still loved me. My body's reaction to her soft femininity was testament to my longing for her.

"Come on into the living room. I've got a fire going. Can I get you a blood?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Thank you." As I sat down on the sofa, I noticed that Sookie had been drinking a glass of wine. She didn't usually drink alone.

She came back from the kitchen holding the warmed blood and a napkin. Very carefully, she placed the napkin on the coffee table, squared it to the corners, and set the bottled blood squarely in the center; delay tactics if I ever saw them. Apparently satisfied with the placement of the bottle and napkin, she took her seat.

I took a sip of my blood and waited.

Sookie took a large draught of her wine and set it carefully on the table next to her. She then took a deep breath and let it out again. "Bill, I just want to say again how sorry I am for hitting you like I did. I was really, really mad, but that was no excuse." She paused and looked at the picture of herself and Adele taken at Sookie's graduation. "Gran would be so ashamed of me. She raised me better than that."

"Sookie, I understand that you were angry. You had every right to be angry. You didn't injure me."

"I had _no_ right to hit you. I sometimes wonder who I am anymore." Sookie looked beaten and her voice was unfathomably sad.

I had no idea what to say, so I kept silent while Sookie took sip of her wine. The house was silent, save for the crackling of the fire and the ticking of the old wind-up wall clock in the hallway.

"Bill, are all the cards on the table?" Sookie scooted forward in her seat, the wine glass forgotten in her hand as it tipped at a precarious angle. "Have you told me everything about why you came back to Bon Temps, about why you took up with me? Is there is anything else about us that you haven't told me? I need to know it now if there is."

I reached forward and took the wine glass out of her hand and set it on the side table. Taking both of her hands in mine, I said, "Sookie, there is nothing else. I have told you everything." The anticipation of further heartbreak showing on Sookie's face shattered me. "If I exist for a thousand years, I will feel regret and shame over what happened between the two of us every day of that time. I would undo every bit of it if I could, even if it meant that I never met you. Better that than the misery you have experienced in my world and because of me." I looked back at Sookie; tears were streaming down her face. "Do you believe me?"

Sookie nodded and pulled her hands from mine. She used the paper napkin under her wine glass to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"I know I shouldn't hope for you to love me again," I said. "But I still need you in my life. I told you the night we went to Shreveport for dinner. I need you to forgive me. I will always love you Sookie, and if I can't be your lover then I need to know that I have some place in your life. Don't shut me out."

The flickering light from the fireplace danced over Sookie's hair and lit her face softly as she stared intently at the flames. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, "Bill, I never stopped loving you for reasons I can't even explain to myself." She sounded resigned to some unwelcome inevitability.

I hadn't expected that. Hope warred with the sure knowledge that Sookie would never love me completely again.

Almost as if speaking to herself, she continued. "For months I was hurt, ashamed and furious thinking I meant nothing to you, but even with that I could never bring myself to hate you." She spoke slowly as if weighing and measuring every word. "I don't know if I am incredibly weak or tragically stupid, but I _have_ forgiven you. I forgave you early on. I didn't _like_ you very much for a long time, but if I am honest with myself, I have to tell you that I love you for the good man that I know you to be. But, Bill, I can never let myself be _in love_ with you again. There's just been too much hurt between us. Can you understand that?"

Could I understand it? Yes. Did I like it? The tight constriction around my heart said no. "Early on I told you I wanted and needed you in my life, Sookie. At this stage, I will take what I can get." It was so much less than what I had hoped for, but more than I probably deserved.

"I just want us to be happy as friends; really good friends." Turning from the fireplace to look at me, Sookie asked, "Do you think we can do that?"

"I think we can do whatever we decide to do."

"I'm really glad. Thank you."

Her face was so open, hopeful and trusting that I felt that we might actually begin again even if in a different relationship. We would never be able to forget what had passed between us, but it might become the foundation for something stronger. While Sookie's plea for us to be friends effectively killed any of my illusions that we might become lovers again, I would always continue to hope for more. Over the many years of my existence I had found that some hope was better than none.

The storm surrounding our relationship, for the time being, seemed to have abated. Now I found myself about to start another one. The trip to Tulsa and the final nail in Eric's and Sookie's relationship had to be dealt with. My past track record of withholding information had had disastrous results so it was time to fill Sookie in on what I knew and most of what I suspected.

"Sookie, we need to talk about the trip to Tulsa and what you and I might expect there. Have you received any more information from Oklahoma or Sandy Seacrest?"

"Yes," she said as a sour look settled on her face. "Sandy's e-mail came while you were gone. Looks like the Queen is throwing quite a shindig. None of it looks like anything Eric would want."

"Indeed. It is the 'shindig' as you call it, that we need to talk about and I very much agree that Eric probably had little to do with the planning."

Sookie looked at me with raised eyebrows. "That sounds a whole lot like you're about to spring some 'oh shit' news on me, Bill."

"That is probably a very accurate assessment. I did not get much information directly from the King, but Sandy had several things to say that we need to think about."

"Isn't it enough that de Castro is making me go to this so-called 'wedding'". Sookie's voice dripped with disdain. "What more could he possibly expect from me? I'm already supposed to 'listen' to the humans he'll come in contact with." Sookie got up to stoke the fire that had begun to burn down.

Now came the hard part: telling Sookie the conclusions I had drawn. Bottom line: it appeared to be open season on Sookie Stackhouse. She was lost to Eric, coveted by Oklahoma, desired by Nevada and a target for any other Vampire monarch who might be willing to fight to take her.

"Sookie, the King intends to be your escort throughout the wedding weekend…your 'date,' if you will." Sookie's hand stilled; she stood up rigidly as the hand holding the poker dropped to her side. "He also expects you to occupy one of the bedrooms in his suite. I would imagine that is so that it appears that you are 'together.'" Sookie turned to look at me; her face had drained to bone whiteness.

She put the poker back in its holder, but remained standing in a slightly defensive poster, her fists clenched at her sides. "What! Why would he do that?" Her heart was hammering in her chest as she began pacing. "That's it! I'm not going. There is nothing they can do." She paused seeming to gather some hidden reserve of determination. "I. Am. Not. Going. That's all there is to it."

"Sookie, I'm not sure that you have much choice." I got up and caught her by both arms to stop her frenzied pacing and ranting. She didn't try to struggle out of my grasp, but her eyes were frantic as they searched my face hoping I could offer a way out. "He is sending a limousine to pick us both up to take us to Shreveport for the flight to Tulsa. I know the King well enough that he won't be sending just _any _driver. It will be someone who can find you quickly if necessary. He won't allow you to embarrass him by not attending. "

"Bill, I can't go to that wedding looking like I've taken up with de Castro. Eric may have been taken away from me, but I can't have him thinking I've just moved on to the next bigger fish."

"Eric knows you, he knows the King and he knows the situation. I don't think he will believe that."

"Then why is de Castro doing it? What could he possibly hope to gain? He already has my telepathy. If he thinks I am going to have sex with him, he will have to rape me because I won't sleep with him or give him my blood voluntarily. Why is he doing this?" She demanded again as panic began to take over.

"My best guess is that he wants to emphasize his ownership of you not only for Freyda, but also for the other monarchs who will be there. According to Sandy, he _**is**_infatuated with you, but I have never known him to force himself on anyone."

"So I am going to be his shiny toy that he shows to all the other kids?" Disgust laced her words as she flopped down into her chair.

"Something like that." I suspected that there might be more to it than that, but I wasn't ready to speculate until I had more information. "I think he may try to court you, I don't think you will have to worry about unwanted sexual advances in private."

"What do you mean _'in private'? _ What is he likely to do in public?"

"Most likely you will be on his arm." I cringed inwardly at the thought of Sookie as 'arm candy.' "As you know, de Castro is very Old World, very chivalrous and, I think, genuinely fond of you. He would not fondle you indecently, but there may be some touching, open flirting and innuendo, especially in the presence of other Vampires. He loves to dance, so I would expect that he would hold you much closer than he would if you belonged to another Vampire." I hoped that Sookie understood that this was very subdued behavior compared to what I had seen in public between some Vampires and their pets.

"Where will you be while all this is going on," she asked as her hands moved restlessly from her lap to the arms of the chair and back again. "I want you to be with me. I can't be alone with de Castro." I could see Sookie's struggle to stay calm, but she was hanging on by a fragile thread.

"I will be there, but I will be escorting Sandy." Sookie's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. Her expression made me smirk. She couldn't have looked more astonished if I had announced that Sandy and I were getting married.

"When did _that_ happen?" She demanded as her face teetered between amusement and surprise. "You've never really talked about her." A sly smile danced across her lips as she asked, "Did something happen between ya'll in Las Vegas?" Mischief appeared to have taken hold as her mouth opened to say something else, but then she closed it abruptly. Suddenly looking abashed, she said, "Wow…Bill, I'm sorry…that really isn't my business. I don't know where that came from."

"Oh, don't be sorry," I said as a smirk graced my own lips, "I am as surprised as you are. Sandy is the one who told me about de Castro's plans for you and then I found myself maneuvered into being _her_ escort." The memory of Sandy's flirting still caused me to mentally shake my head in disbelief.

Sookie sat quietly studying the dying fire and deep in thought. "Do know where you will be staying? Do you think they are trying to separate us? Are you going to be attending all of the 'events'?" I could see the wheels turning in Sookie's head as she processed this information.

"I am staying on the same floor as the King's suite, so I won't be far from you. I want you to keep your cell phone with you at all times. As far as attempting to separate us for some nefarious reason…I don't think so. I am slated to attend all the same events that you are. I will be able to keep an eye on you except when you are in your room and I am at rest. You just need to be vigilant about what is going on around you and not get yourself into an unprotected situation.

"Sookie, this next part is important." I waited until she brought her eyes to mine. "Our goal here is to get in and out of this event with your freedom intact. You need to watch yourself while we are there." She nodded her head wordlessly. "It will be very important that you not do anything to call the King's power and authority into question. He is walking on very thin ice with those would desire to overthrow him. Namely, Oklahoma and possibly Arizona."

She turned her gaze back to the fire. Her voice forlorn, Sookie asked, "What about Eric?"

I was at a loss. _What could I possibly say? _"What do you mean, Sookie?"

"Nothing, I guess. I just can't believe that he is being forced to go through with this. I still don't get it. How could his King, make him do this? It just doesn't make sense. Why would de Castro give away his most valuable Vampire asset?"

As I listened to her questions, I began to see that they were more than an expression of her grief and loss. She was asking very good, strategic questions. The obvious answer was what we had already discussed that this was a means of pacifying Oklahoma, but I began to wonder if there wasn't more to it. Eric had all but fallen off the face of the map as so little had been heard from him in the last weeks. He was not known for being low key or passive.

"What are you thinking, Sookie?"

"I think we need to go see Pam." Determination strengthened her voice. "I don't think she will tell us anything directly because she doesn't want to cause Eric any grief, but we might figure some things out from what she isn't willing to talk about. Do you think she is being watched?"

"Honestly, I think we are all being watched to some degree, but it wouldn't hurt for one of us to try to talk to Pam. Have you got your clothes together for the trip?"

Sookie all but snorted in disgust. "Are you kidding me? I haven't even thought about it. It is not as if I am looking forward to this charade." Her voice dropped as it became brittle and flat. "Besides, I am not anxious to spend money on clothes to watch Eric marry that Oklahoma whore," she said bitterly.

I understood Sookie's bitterness, but we needed to take any opportunity possible to gather information. "I think you need to call Pam and see if she can take you shopping. Even if she is being followed, it is highly unlikely they will follow you into a dressing room."

Sookie sat looking at me quietly as she weighed the pros and cons of my suggestion. "You know," she paused. "I said I wasn't going to use any of Eric's money, but I've changed my mind. I'm going to get as decked out as I can and I am going to show that bitch up at her own wedding." Sookie's face was fierce as she considered her feminine war plans. History was rife with examples of women scorned who made for lethal enemies. I had no doubt that Sookie would rank with the best of them.

"The wedding is only two weeks away," I pointed out,"and Pam has absorbed almost all of Eric's Sheriff's duties. She is very busy. I don't doubt that she will be willing to help you 'one up' Freyda, but time may be an issue. Do you feel like calling her tonight?" I knew Pam well enough to know that she would leap at the chance to a) shop and b) help Sookie humiliate Freyda up in any way she could.

"Good idea. I'll call her now." Sookie stood up and strode purposefully to the kitchen phone. I didn't need to follow; I could hear easily enough.

Sookie dialed and waited. "Fangtasia. The Bar with a Bite." The voice of the bored female answering the phone was one I didn't recognize. Pam had put on several new servers and one new bartender.

"Um, hi. This is Sookie Stackhouse. Is Pam available?" Sookie's voice carried a sense of purpose. I just hoped that we could learn something from her shopping expedition with Pam. "Okay, I'll hold."

She waited silently for a short time and then, "Hey, Pam. It's Sookie. I have a favor to ask." Her voice was slightly breathless and excited as she spoke to Pam.

Pam did not speak immediately and when she did it was with great caution. "Sookie, as you know, I am running the bar and have taking on most of my maker's Sheriff's duties. I am pretty busy."

"Pam, I know you're really busy, and I hate to bother you, but I haven't seen you in forever, and I wanted to know if you would help me shop for the wedding. I don't want to embarrass the King, and I know you'll know what I should buy." Sookie sounded overly bright and perky as she appealed to Pam's love of shopping and sense of style. "I'll be happy to drive to Shreveport or meet you somewhere," Sookie coaxed. I promise I won't make it hard for you, and I'll go along with whatever you recommend I buy."

Pam was silent on the other end of the line for several seconds. "Alright. Be here at Fangtasia by 7:00 tomorrow night and don't be late. Wednesday's are our slowest night so it won't be too hard to get away, but I will have to come back to close up. Pam began to sound more like herself as she made plans with Sookie. "There are several boutiques on Line Avenue. We'll go to a couple of those. I will call ahead and have them set some things aside for you."

"That'll be great, Pam. I can't wait to see you. Thank you so much for doing this."

"Fine, fine. I'll see you tomorrow night. Don't be late."

_Ah, Pam_, I thought as I smiled to myself upon hearing Pam's imperious tone. Some things never changed.

Sookie came back into the living room with the first real smile I had seen on her face in some time.

"Pam's all set." She beamed. "I'm going to Shreveport tomorrow night." Taking her seat in her chair she seemed genuinely excited about her shopping expedition. Or maybe it was because she thought she would find out something that might help Eric. "I'm going to have to think on what to ask her about what she knows. I can't be too direct, I don't think."

"I think you are right. Perhaps you could…" A knock on the front door interrupted me. I looked at my watch; it was 9:15. "Are you expecting any visitors tonight?" I asked.

Sookie shook her head and looked apprehensive as she got up to answer the door. I rose to stand behind her. "Who is it?" she called through the closed door.

"DeadEX Delivery, Ma'am."

I pulled her behind me and opened the door. The young Vampire delivery man stood there holding a small package in his hand.

"I have a package for Miss Sookie Stackhouse," he said, looking past me to focus on Sookie.

"Thank you," she said as she accepted and signed for the package. Closing and locking the door behind her, she looked quizzically at the wrapped package. Her eyebrows shot upward as she read the shipping label. "It's from de Castro. Do you have any idea what this is?"

"Not one," I said with genuine curiosity, "but there is only one was to find out.

"You're right I guess, but I'm kind of afraid to open it." She had a look of sincere alarm on her face.

"Do you want me to open it for you?" She nodded her head, thrust the package at me and took two steps backward. Despite her tension and the mystery surrounding the package, I couldn't help but smile at her reaction. "I don't think it is anything that will _bite _you, Sookie." My teasing resulted in a raised eyebrow and pointed stare as she waggled her hand in the direction of the package.

Sporting a small smile and shaking my head at being properly 'chastised,' I turned my attention to the package. It was a trademark blue box tied with a white satin bow accompanied by a note. There was no question that it was indeed from the King. The note was written on his personal stationary. The white bow slid away with the barest of tugs. I lifted the lid and had to blink a few times. My brow rose. I was shocked.

Without a word, I extended the box and the note to Sookie. She titled her chin and glanced inside the box. For a breath, she was perfectly still. When the contents registered, her eyes grew huge. With trembling hands she took the box from my hands and held it away from her as if it was some alien thing. Sookie's lovely features instantly lined with alarm and anxiety.

"Why would de Castro be sending me jewelry from Tiffany's?"


	14. Chapter 14: Faceoff

**AN:** I cannot heap enough thanks on those of you who review each chapter. Your often detailed reviews help me grow as a writer and for me that is a very great gift. I would like to give a special shout-out to **doubleesou** who wrote review number 200. Thank you so much!

**Joyindenver** rocks. She is my ever-patient beta who makes my writing and storytelling so much better. Your enjoyment is largely due to her efforts. Thank you, Joy!

Charlaine Harris is mother to all the kids on the SVM block. I love playing at her house.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

_Sporting a small smile and shaking my head at being properly 'chastised,' I turned my attention to the package. It was a trademark blue box tied with a white satin bow accompanied by a note. There was no question that it was indeed from the King. The note was written on his personal stationary. The white bow slid away with the barest of tugs. I lifted the lid and had to blink a few times. My brow rose. I was shocked._

_Without a word, I extended the box and the note to Sookie. She tilted her chin and glanced inside the box. For a breath, she was perfectly still. When the contents registered, her eyes grew huge. With trembling hands she took the box from my hands and held it away from her as if it was some alien thing. Sookie's lovely features instantly lined with alarm and anxiety._

"_Why would de Castro be sending me jewelry from Tiffany's?"_

Sookie's wide-eyed gaze traveled to the box she held in her right hand. Inside the square presentation box, resting on a white satin lining lay a diamond encrusted lemniscate, an infinity symbol, suspended by a heavyweight, but simply designed link chain. Sookie looked up, confusion wrinkling her brow and anger beginning to dance in her eyes.

"Why don't you read the note?" I prompted.

Sookie looked at the note she held in her left hand as if seeing it for the first time. Setting the box down on the hall table, she ran her finger under the envelope flap, breaking the King's wax seal. Unfolding the heavy vellum paper, she scanned the note quickly before beginning to read it aloud.

_My Dear Miss Stackhouse,_

_Please allow me to say that I am looking forward to seeing you in Tulsa. I know that this has been a difficult few weeks and I appreciate your willingness to attend this event as an important part of my retinue. Also, it is my sincerest wish that we get to know one another a little better over the course of the weekend and begin to mend the rancor that developed between us in Shreveport. I truly hope that old acrimony can be replaced by trust and friendship._

_I would be delighted if you will accept this gesture of my intentions in this regard. However, I am aware that you may be reluctant to do so for fear that it will create undesired obligations. If you cannot accept this token as the gift it is intended to be, please consider it a loan for the duration of our time in Tulsa. I will be most pleased if you are wearing it when we arrive there. _

_Warmest regards,_

_Felipe de Castro _

"Do you have any idea what thisis about?" Sookie asked. "Why does he want me to wear this?"

Her face looked like it could not make up its mind which feeling it wanted to express. Confusion warred with anger, anxiety battled with reassurance. I understood her feelings. Dealing with Vampires, especially Vampire royalty, was seldom, if ever, straightforward. I offered little explanation there was.

"Sookie, in recent years, as Vampires have become more public and more organized some monarchs have chosen to have the members of their official retinue wear identifying badges or emblems. Since there will be representatives from several kingdoms attending, it may be that de Castro wants to create a show of solidarity. If de Castro has me, the attending Sheriffs, Sandy and any others from his kingdom wear the same symbol, we will know that that is his intention."

Sookie seemed to catch my private worries about the meaning of the necklace. "What do you think it means if I am the only one wearing something like this?" she asked, poking at the box with her hand. The cynicism of her tone told me that the question was clearly rhetorical. "The last time I saw a bunch of Vampires wearing the same thing was when Peter Threadgill and the Arkansas Vampires tried to kill Sophie Ann at their wedding reception in New Orleans."

Cynicism laced my own laugh as I replied, "Well, coming out has made all the monarchs more competitive with each other. So I guess these 'badges' help to keep the teams straight in large gatherings."

Sookie picked up the necklace and went back into the living room. She set the still open box on the coffee table and seated herself on the sofa.

I sat down next to her and asked, "Do you mind if I look at the necklace more closely?"

"Knock yourself out." She said as she reached forward to hand me the box.

I picked up the necklace and then dropped it immediately. "Ow!"

"Bill, are you okay?" She asked with alarm.

"Sookie, that necklace is made from silver!"

"What? Why?" She shook her head as if to clear her mind. "Are you okay?" She asked again.

"Yes, I am fine. The necklace is obviously not the white gold I thought it was." I looked at my fingers as the deep burns began to slowly heal.

Sookie picked up the necklace and looked at the clasp, pointing out the 'Sterling .925' stamped below the classic Tiffany & Co. logo. "Why would a Vampire give me silver jewelry?" she asked, sounding every bit as surprised and confused as I felt.

"That is a very good question," I responded. "We both know the effect of silver on Vampires. He may be concerned about your safety while we are in Tulsa or he may want to reassure you of his honorable intentions. Or, it could be both."

"Who knows?" Sookie sighed as she rolled her eyes. "I've given up trying to keep y'all's reasons for things straight. I'll take it with me when I go see Pam tomorrow night. Maybe she'll know something. I don't plan on wearin' it though."

I looked at my watch and saw that it was getting late. "I'd like to accompany you into Shreveport tomorrow night, if I may."

"You don't hafta' to shadow me for a shopping expedition, Bill. You'll be bored out of your skull." Smiling she continued, "Besides, I don't think anyone would want to tangle with Pam when she is in full-on shopping mode."

"No doubt," I said, exhaling a silent laugh, "but I will feel better if I can at least escort you ladies around. Besides, if Pam has something with which to enlighten us before we leave for Tulsa, I'd like to hear it."

Sookie just shook her head with a look of slight exasperation. "Okay, whatever. Just be here by six so we can hit the road. I don't want to be late. You know how cranky Pam can get." Apparently, the lateness of the hour had begun to make Sookie a little cranky as well.

"I am aware," I said as I stood to see myself out.

Sookie walked behind me to the front door. As I reached to open it, she stayed my arm with a light touch and tugged on it to turn me around. The tender look on her face stopped me in my tracks.

"Thank you, Bill," she said softly, continuing to rest her hand on my forearm. "I am really glad we can be friends. I'd hate it if we couldn't."

"You're welcome, Sookie. I would hate it too." My assignment to what I had heard called 'the friend zone' left me grateful and devastated all at the same time.

Sookie's smile was gentle as she tugged me down to kiss my cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night," I repeated as I let myself out.

The long winter nights allowed me to rise early, so that I could be at Sookie's back door just before six the next evening. She must have been watching for me, because she was locking the back door as I walked up to the porch. She had a small tote bag on her shoulder along with her purse.

"Hi, Bill. Did you rest well?" she asked. Her question was one of the many polite, innocuous questions humans frequently asked of one another, but were a source of humor for most Vampires.

"Like the dead," I said with raised eyebrows and a grin.

"Bill…," she giggled in mock exasperation. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, Sookie," I said with artificial gravity, "I rested well. Can I take your bag?" I asked as we walked to the car.

"No, it's okay. I've got it," she said as I opened her door. "It's just the necklace and some heels and other things I'll need if Pam is going to have me try on some formals. I've also got the list of 'events' that I'll need outfits for. I hope we can get it all done tonight."

I settled in my seat and started the car. As we rode along, Sookie filled me in on the local gossip gleaned from her day shift at Merlotte's. She told me once that _'not much changed in Bon Temps'_ and from the sound of it she was right. Much of what she told me sounded like familiar gossip from my human days in the little town. Even some of the names were the same.

I did find it a little odd that she did not bring up the wedding, Eric, or the upcoming trip. Previously, just the mention of Eric's name or the wedding was enough to cause her tears. Now, I couldn't put my finger on how she was really feeling about any of it; she seemed to have muted her emotions. Whether it was from self preservation or resignation to the inevitable, I couldn't be sure.

Our ride continued uneventfully until we found ourselves at the employee's entrance to Fangtasia at 6:55; five minutes early. I parked next to Pam's space in the lot which was filled with a new BMW 335i. The two-door, cherry red Coupe announced that Pam's minivan days were over. It didn't have the verve of Eric's Corvette, but its sleek lines were all Pam, and it was certainly a car befitting her position as the interim Sheriff of Area 5.

I knocked on the back door. It was just a few seconds before Pam herself opened it. "Sookie." She said favoring her with a slight smile. "You are on time."

"Hey, Pam. We're early and it's good to see you too." Sookie's greeting was a study in good natured sarcasm.

"Bill." Pam's cool greeting acknowledged my presence. Her face was anything but welcoming as her usual bland expression was replaced by sharp assessment laced with suspicion. "I wasn't expecting you to accompany Sookie. I thought you would be busy doing the _King's_ bidding." The emphasis on the word 'King' made it sound like a dirty word.

"I thought it might be best if Sookie did not drive alone tonight." I said, trying to allay Pam's obvious suspicion. "You shouldn't concern yourself about my obligations to the King. Rest assured that they are being met."

"No doubt." Pam replied, continuing to study me as if she could read something from my expression. Her concerns about my presence were clearly evident in her harsh voice and snappish comments.

"Come in then." she said, motioning us through the door. Walking toward Eric's office, she spoke over her shoulder, "I have a couple of things to do and then we'll leave. Stay here. I'll be back." With that, she left us sitting in the office listening to the sharp click of her high heels as she walked back into the bar.

"I didn't think Vampires got tired, but Pam sure looks it," Sookie observed as soon as Pam was out the door.

"She has had to do much more in Eric's absence, plus I think she is worried for him." I said. Sookie just nodded her head and looked back toward the door leading out of the office. "I think she is worried for you as well, Sookie."

"She doesn't need to worry about me." Sookie opened her mouth to say something else, but then closed it again as Pam came back into the office. Whatever she had been about to say was forgotten.

"Let's go," Pam ordered as she grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer of Eric's desk. "Bill, what are you going to do while Sookie and I shop?"

"I was planning on chauffeuring the two of you around if that is alright." Pam arched her eyebrow at my plan.

"Do you think you need to approve my choices for Sookie, Bill?" she asked sarcastically. "Are you questioning my taste, my ability to protect Sookie, or my loyalty to my King?" Pam fixed me with a hard stare as suspicion sat heavily on her features.

"None of the above," I said both surprised and more than a little put off by her barrage of assumptions. However, I realized that Pam was operating without Eric's guidance. Perhaps the questions she leveled at me were statements of her own insecurities.

"This is my effort to help." I said trying to allay Pam's suspicions. "With your tight schedule, I thought I might be able to facilitate the shopping trip by doing the driving and the bag toting." Clearly Pam's increasing responsibilities and concern for Eric were beginning to take a toll.

"I don't think Sookie and I need your help. If you want to help-," Pam was interrupted by Sookie who was growing increasingly upset by the back and forth between Pam and me.

"Listen, you two: We have enough on our plate without all the sniping back and forth. Bill asked if he could come and I said yes. He is under orders from the King to protect me and is just doing his job, Pam. Come on; let's get this show on the road. I don't have all night even if you do." With that Sookie picked up her purse and tote bag and headed toward the door.

Pam glared at me, and I glared right back. Finally, putting her bag on her shoulder, she turned on her heel and stomped out the back door after Sookie.

Once outside, I went to my car. When I realized neither Pam nor Sookie had followed me, I turned around to see Pam standing at the door of her car and Sookie poised in the space between the two vehicles. Pam was clearly determined to show that she was in charge.

"If I am going to drive, we should take my car," I said.

Pam snorted. "We will take _my_ car and you can ride in the back." Her tone brooked no disagreement. I was beginning to understand the meaning of 'no good deed goes unpunished.'

Tamping down my annoyance, I asked, "What's the point of that, Pam? I can drop you and Sookie off at the door of the shops and then park and wait for you" Hoping that reason would prevail, I added, "If you drive, then time is wasted looking for a parking spot."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, you two." Sookie exclaimed. "Just stop it right now. Bill, let Pam drive. _I'll_ sit in the back." Sookie had obviously reached the end of her patience with our bickering.

Deciding that nothing would be gained by continued argument, I gave in. "Fine. We'll take Pam's car, and I will sit in the back."

Pam flashed a triumphant, fangy smile as she opened the driver's door and got in. I treated her to a fang enhanced growl of my own as I squeezed myself into the backseat. Sookie got into the passenger seat shaking her head and muttering something about _'children.'_

"Where are you taking me, Pam," Sookie asked trying to lighten the mood. "What kind of clothes do you think I need?"

"Have you looked at the schedule of events?" Pam asked. "You are going to need something for travel as well as for each of the nights we are there. You will also need some casual clothes for the days as there are no 'human only' events. If you attend all the evening events you probably won't need much for the day time though."

"So that means I need something western for Thursday night, something formal for Friday and Saturday night and some 'fancy travel' for Thursday and Sunday. Right?" Sookie had successfully diverted Pam's attention away from me. She had finally quit glaring at me in the rearview mirror. "I think I have enough of my own clothes for anything I need for daytime."

"We will need to make careful selections for all of the events." Pam stated. "All of us will be representing the Kingdom and none of us wants to disappoint the King. De Castro wants us to put our best foot forward." Her demeanor had perked up with Sookie's barrage of questions and comments concerning her wardrobe needs. "I even got an e-mail from Sandy asking me to monitor on your wardrobe choices. I don't think she likes you, Sookie."

"I don't know what I could've done to her," Sookie said sounding surprised. "I don't think I have exchanged a dozen words with her since the take-over."

"Well, I know she is fiercely loyal to de Castro, so who knows what her problem is? She did, however, ask a great deal about you, Bill." In the rearview mirror,Pam's smirk was insufferable and the look of calculation in her eyes was accusatory. "She seemed mightily interested in what you've been up to since you were there. It sounded like you'd gotten in pretty deep with de Castro and his minions."

"If you have something to say, Pam, you just need to say it. You don't do innuendoes well." My sympathy and understanding of the increased pressures on Pam were wearing very thin.

"Alright then. I don't trust you, Bill. You've gotten chummy with de Castro, Sandy is sniffing around you like a bitch in heat, and you are stuck to Sookie like glue on a postage stamp." Reflected in the rearview mirror, Pam's eyes glittered with animus. "So, which is it, Bill? Are you spying on me and Sookie for de Castro or for Freyda? My bet is on Freyda. With Eric out of the way, you get the Sookie prize."

"Now wait just a minute!" Sookie exclaimed.

I was furious. "Pam you need to pull your head out of your ass." Swallowing the blood that had filled my mouth from the sudden descent of my fangs, I continued, "I work for the King and owe him my fealty just like you do. I have no idea why Sandy is asking so much about me, and Sookie is not a prize to be won or lost. It is well known that Eric and I have had our differences, but he also has my loyalty if for no other reason than Sookie loves him. Where do you come up with this stuff?" Clearly I had underestimated the extent of Pam's stress induced paranoia.

Glancing meaningfully in Sookie's direction, she replied, "Let's just say you have a less than stellar tract record. Neither Eric nor I have ever been completely sure of your loyalties. It would serve your interests if he is out of the way."

"I have no interests other than those of the King. As for Eric's being out of the way, that serves your interests far better than it does mine." My tone was bitter and accusing as I continued leveling charges at her. "You're _Sheriff_ now. You've got the title, a new car, money, and power. It looks like this works more to _your_ advantage than it does mine."

Pam's eyes blazed as she whirled around in her seat with her fangs fully down. "How dare you!" she shouted. "Eric is my maker; I would never sell him out like that!" She reached over the seat, one hand still on the steering wheel, the other grasping for my throat. The car began to swerve dangerously.

"That's enough!" Sookie shouted as she blocked Pam's arm. "Pull this car over right now!" Sookie sounded truly frightened as her shouts pulled us out of our angry haze.

Pam brought the car quickly under control. "What do you mean, Sookie?" Pam asked, clearly shocked at Sookie's tone.

"What part of _pull over_ did you not understand?" she yelled, her tone verging on hysteria. "Pull the damn car to the curb right now!" Sookie had her hand on the door handle like she might open it while the car was still moving.

"Alright, alright. I'm pulling the car over. Don't get your panties in a twist."

Pam slowed the car and pulled into the parking lot of a Wal-Mart and cut the engine. We sat silently waiting for Sookie. There was no sound in the car except for the hammering of her heart and the clicking of the engine as it cooled.

Finally, Sookie swiveled in her seat so that she could fix both of us with a hard look.

"I don't know how Eric puts up with either of you."

Pam bristled. "Sookie, you don't know-"

"Pam!" Sookie bellowed. "I'm talking now. It's. My. Turn."

Pam closed her mouth and turned to face the windshield, a stubborn look on her face. I wanted to grin at Sookie's imperious tone with Pam, but knew it would get me in hot water.

Sookie visibly calmed herself allowing her voice to be gentle as she said, "Pam, I know you love Eric." Fixing me with a hard glare she continued. "I know you _hate_ what has happened to him and that you would never take advantage of the situation. I don't believe for a minute that you care one thing about the title or the power except as it relates to taking care of what Eric has managed to build for himself and Area 5."

Pam looked at me in the rearview mirror, eyebrow cocked as she gloated over Sookie's seeming to take her side against my accusations. It rankled me.

"Sookie, I don't think you understand how Pam has-"

"Bill! The same rules apply to you. It's my turn."

I sat back in my seat waiting for my tongue lashing.

"Bill, I trust you." She turned to look squarely at Pam as she spoke about me. "You have been honest with me and we have worked through our differences. I do not believe that you are trying to sell any of us out." I was gratified not only by her trust, but also her willingness to state it out loud. Pam just harrumphed disgustedly.

"What neither of you seem to understand is that Eric needs you both. Pam, is it true that Eric asked Bill to watch out for me?"

Pam rolled her eyes, but finally conceded, "Yes, but I will never understand why." Her tone dripped with disdain.

Nodding her head sharply at Pam's answer, Sookie turned to me. "Bill, who is the logical choice to look after Eric's affairs in his absence?"

"Pam. She is his child and his Second." I hated the concession, but it was accurate.

Sookie sat silently, looking back and forth between the two of us, letting the logic of her questions and our responses sink in.

"Alright then. Can we _stop_ with the accusations? We have other things we need to be doing besides carping at one another. Agreed?"

Pam closed her eyes and grimaced. "For the time being…I agree. But don't expect me to like him."

Sookie just shook her head at Pam's petulant response. "Not exactly what I hoped for, but close enough. Bill?"

"Fine by me," I said, agreeing reluctantly. I might be over a hundred and seventy years old, but the urge to say _'she started it'_ was almost overwhelming.

As Sookie sighed wearily, Pam reached forward to start the car.

"Pam, wait just a minute." Sookie leaned forward to dig through her tote bag.

"What is it now?" Pam demanded. "Sookie, you are so much trouble."

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before, Pam. From you." Holding up the Tiffany's box, Sookie asked, "What do you know about this?"

"Ooohhh…it's Tiffany's. That's what I know about it." Pam's face lit up like a flare against a dark sky; her avarice was blinding. "What is it? Show me."

I was surprised that neither of them heard the sound of my eyes rolling in the backseat as Sookie opened the box to reveal the necklace inside.

"Oh," Pam said flatly. "I just got a stupid pin with little diamonds. How did you manage to get a whole necklace?" Pam reached to take the necklace from the box.

"Is your pin sterling silver?" Sookie asked as she moved the box out of Pam's reach.

Pam snatched her hand back looking at Sookie with a mixture of surprise and alarm. "That necklace is silver? Did the King send it? Why would he send you a silver necklace?"

"Those are real good questions, Pam, and I have no idea. Is your pin like this necklace?"

"Only in that it is an infinity symbol with diamonds; the diamonds are set in platinum, not silver. I still don't understand why de Castro would send you a silver necklace."

"I was with Sookie when she received the necklace, Pam. De Castro included a note with it. He wants Sookie to be wearing the necklace when she arrives in Tulsa. I think-"

"Bill thinks that de Castro is trying to protect me," Sookie interrupted. "What do you think, Pam?"

Pam held my gaze in the rearview mirror as she considered Sookie's question. She turned to look at Sookie and said, "I hate to say it, but I…_agree_, with Bill." She shuddered slightly as she said my name.

I could not keep the smirk off my face. If the situation had been less serious, I would have laughed out loud. "Good to know, Pam. Thanks." Sookie whipped her head around to glare at me for my comment. I shrugged my shoulders and looked out the side window, the smirk still firmly on my face. I'd had all I was going to take from Pam. Stress or no stress.

"Okay, you two, knock it off. You both need to get down off your high horse and think about what is happening around you. I need you both. _Eric_ needs you both." As annoying and insulting as I found Pam, I could not ignore the plea in Sookie's voice. "We're about to walk into the middle of a mess in Tulsa." She continued. "We need to be together, not arguing with one another."

Sookie leaned toward Pam and laid her hand gently in Pam's forearm. "Pam if you know anything at all that will help Eric, please tell me. Even if it means that I can't be with Eric again, I need to know how to help him now. Very little of this makes sense and nothing about it is right." Sookie was pleading now. "Pam, _please_. Look at me. What do you know?"

Pam's pain was written large on her face as she turned to look at Sookie. She was caught between her love and loyalty to her maker and her affection for the human woman who had been such a good friend to her and who loved and was loved by her maker. I'd been in a similar spot; I understood her conflict.

"Eric thinks that Freyda will try something at the wedding." Pam said, speaking slowly as if the words were being physically wrenched from her. "He thinks he is being used as a pawn to grab de Castro's kingdom including its greatest asset. That's you, Sookie."

Sookie withdrew her hand and sat back, removing herself as far from Pam as the small confines of the car would allow. "Were you ever going to tell me?" Sookie asked. Her question was laced with bitter disbelief and disappointment.

"Eric told me to keep you out of it." Pam explained. "He struck some kind of deal with de Castro to protect you." This last carried detectable notes of resentment. Whether toward Freyda, de Castro or Sookie, it was unclear.

"What kind of deal?" Sookie demanded.

"He would never tell me the specifics. He told me it was better that way. I was just supposed to protect you, which I have done." Pam was at once sad and defiant as her words bore proof to what all Vampires know: a maker's wishes supersede all others. "Sookie, Eric was afraid that you would do something half-cocked if you knew more about what was going on with him. Please don't prove him right."

Sookie seemed to have drawn in on herself as she continued to stare at Pam to the point that Pam began to fidget slightly under her scrutiny. Finally, as if coming to some momentous decision, Sookie straightened her shoulders and turned to face the windshield. "Let's go, Pam. I'm on lunch duty tomorrow. Let's get this over with."


	15. Chapter 15: Think Tank

**AN:** Reviews are life blood to a FF writer. So whether you do it for me or some other FF author, try to leave a review from time to time, especially if you alert or favorite the story. There has to be some reason that you chose to do that, so let them know about it. We learn from your reviews, are inspired by them and are humbled by them.

**Joyindenver** is my beta. She advises, cajoles, corrects and praises. Without her this story would not have been nearly as entertaining. Thanks, Joy!

Charlaine Harris…thank _you_ for introducing us all to Sookie, Eric, Bill and the whole cast of characters in the SVM universe. What a wonderful world you have created for us to play in.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

"_Eric told me to keep you out of it." Pam explained. "He struck some kind of deal with de Castro to protect you." This last carried detectable notes of resentment. Whether toward Freyda, de Castro or Sookie, it was unclear._

"_What kind of deal?" Sookie demanded._

"_He would never tell me the specifics. He told me it was better that way. I was just supposed to protect you, which I have done." Pam was at once sad and defiant as her words bore proof to what all Vampires know: a maker's wishes supersede all others. "Sookie, Eric was afraid that you would do something half-cocked if you knew more about what was going on with him. Please don't prove him right."_

_Sookie seemed to have drawn in on herself as she continued to stare at Pam to the point that Pam began to fidget slightly under her scrutiny. Finally, as if coming to some momentous decision, Sookie straightened her shoulders and turned to face the windshield. "Let's go, Pam. I'm on lunch duty tomorrow. Let's get this over with."_

Pam leaned forward to restart the car, but then hesitated, turning to look at Sookie. "Sookie…_please_…you have to understand…you are my friend, but Eric is my maker." Pam's voice had lost its usual cool, caustic tone. She was nearly pleading. "I care for you, but I owe him my fealty and obedience. I _couldn't_ tell you."

As Pam spoke, Sookie said nothing, but shook her head slowly from side to side as she continued to stare through the windshield. Whether it was in disbelief or trying to clear her head I was unsure. Suddenly, she took a deep breath and turned to face Pam.

"Pam, you said that you think that Eric cut some kind of deal with de Castro to protect me." She paused looking down to rub her fingers wearily over her brow before continuing. "If I wasn't in the picture, would Eric have gone along with any of this?"

Pam turned away from Sookie to look out of the driver's window. "No, probably not," she admitted. Her voice carried the strain of being torn between her loyalty to her maker and her friendship with Sookie.

"Not good enough Pam," Sookie said sharply. "You know Eric better than anybody. Which is it? No or probably not." Sookie's relentlessness had reared its head. I recognized it easily. I had been on the receiving end of it all too often.

Pam was silent. She continued to look out the driver's side window. From my perspective in the back seat, I could see her reach to wipe away what I assumed were tears.

I gazed over toward Sookie. Her agitation seemed to increase with every beat of her heart. "Well, Pam?" Sookie prompted sharply.

"No!" she shouted to the driver's window before whirling around to face Sookie. Pam sounded hurt, angry, bitter, and resigned. "He wouldn't have permitted it."

Sookie registered no surprise in her voice at the vehemence of Pam's words. "So you think that de Castro used me as leverage to force Eric into this. Is that right?" She asked.

Pam's gaze narrowed. Abruptly, she turned away from Sookie and simply nodded.

"You're mad about that aren't you, Pam?" Sookie's question hung in the air waiting for Pam's reply. Her tone was like that of a therapist trying to help a patient work through her feelings.

The set of Pam's shoulders had gone rigid at Sookie's question. Finally, she managed one sharp nod at the driver's side window.

"You went off on Bill, because it's easier for you to show your anger at him than it is to disobey Eric and take it out on me. Is that about right?" Sookie asked.

Sookie was pushing her and I worried at Pam's reaction if she continued to press her too far. I had always understood that Pam owed Eric her loyalty as her maker, but I'd never realized until this moment how much he was the center of her world. Regardless of how much she cared for Sookie any threat she posed to Eric could not be tolerated. Her next words brought home the depth of her conflict and anguish as she faced the prospect of losing two people who were so important to her.

"If Bill hadn't brought you into Fangtasia, Eric would never have known anything about _you," _Pam spat out, the dam of her emotions finally breaking. Her bitter, but true statement echoed a regret I'd felt many times over the last three years. "I know Eric loves you Sookie, but you are bad for him." Pam's words were rushed and angry, but her eyes showed her grief as she looked at Sookie. It was as if she might be looking at her for the last time. "Even if Eric's maker made this deal with Freyda," Pam continued, "Eric shouldn't have had to worry about you. Without that worry, he would have just found a way out of it."

Sookie nodded. Her face was a picture of anguished understanding. Her lips drew inward over her teeth as she bit down on them; her chin quivered and her eyes glittered with unshed tears as she looked at Pam and calculated her losses.

Eric was lost to her and now Pam, her friend, seemed to have turned away from her, blaming her, at least in part for Eric's predicament.

"Sookie," I said, breaking the painful silence in the car, "perhaps we should postpone this for a few days. I will be happy to escort you at a later time."

Sookie turned in her seat and stared blankly at me seeming to have forgotten that I was there. Closing her eyes, she shook her head quickly from side to side as if clearing a mental fog. To say that I was shocked at Sookie's next question would be an understatement.

"What do you think, Bill?" Sookie's voice was filled with challenge. "Do _you_ think I have made this worse for Eric?"

I hesitated. I didn't know how to respond without hurting her even more.

There was truth in Pam's assessment: Sookie's well-known talents and her mostly human fragility made her and anyone close to her vulnerable. Her actions in Dallas, Jackson, and Rhodes, coupled with her deep connection to a high profile Vampire like Eric, had kept her in the spotlight and made her an object to be coveted by all supernatural groups. By default, Eric would be seen as the roadblock between Sookie and those who wanted her. It had been my opinion all along that Freyda was taking a smart approach… acquiring a 'three-fer' if you will. Working through his maker she got Eric, working through Eric she would get Sookie, and leveraging both of them she gets a strong shot at de Castro's entire kingdom.

Sookie's eyes fixed on my face. Each second that I didn't answer her, her perception of what she saw as her role in Eric's current situation seemed to solidify her self-blame and threatened to overwhelm her emotions. As the first of her silent tears began to fall she said, "You've given me my answer, Bill." She turned away from me and reached for her seatbelt to buckle it.

I lurched forward to grab her shoulder desperately wanting her to turn around. She shrugged off my grasp shook her head sharply and pulled away sitting as close to the door as possible. The wall between us that had come down so steadily in the last weeks was now firmly back in place.

"Sookie, listen," I said, "you did _nothing _to create this contract with Freyda, but Pam is right, Eric probably did go along with whatever de Castro forced him to do to protect you. You _cannot_ blame yourself for that. Eric knew he was vulnerable and was willing to accept that to be with you."

"Then he broke his own rules," Sookie responded. In the reflection of the windshield, it seemed from her expression that she was contemplating the world beyond. "He allowed himself to be weak to protect me." She whispered, sounding more broken than I had ever heard her before

I felt myself growing frantic as I watched her shoulder the blame for a world over which she had no control and very little influence. Not for the first time, I regretted my role in bringing her into this world and knew that no matter how long I existed this would be my greatest regret.

"Sookie, will you look at me?"

She didn't answer me.

Long seconds ticked by, but finally she unlatched her seatbelt and turned in her seat to face me. Surprisingly, Pam did as well.

"Before you say anything," I said, "just hear me out." Given Sookie's and my past relationship, what I was about to suggest would be automatically suspect. "You need to show Freyda that Eric no longer has a claim on you. I think she may be working on the assumption that once she has Eric under her control, she can use him to lure you away from de Castro. It may be to your advantage to let it be known that you and Eric no longer share a bond." I watched the play of emotions across Sookie's face as she processed my suggestion: Skepticism followed distrust, agonized acceptance followed grudging consideration.

You're probably right, Bill." She agreed reluctantly. "I broke it, might as well capitalize on it if it will help him look less attractive to Freyda."

Pam weighed in. "How does that help Eric?" Sookie might have been skeptical, but Pam was downright disbelieving.

Sookie looked back and forth between the Pam and me.

"I don't know that it will help Eric directly," I explained, "but it would show Freyda that Eric might not be the conduit to Sookie that she thinks he is. Her interest in Eric and sharing her throne might diminish, allowing him to pursue more of his life in Louisiana."

"Freyda's interest in Eric is more than just political, Bill," Pam replied. Her cocked eyebrow was accompanied by a smirking leer. "She won't let her hooks out of him anytime soon."

Sookie stared at Pam with an odd combination of longing, hope, and disgust, but her comment seemed to have tripped some wire in Sookie's brain. Her next question left me with a slight feeling of whiplash with its sudden change of topic.

"Bill, how big is the group coming from de Castro's kingdom?" Sookie asked.

"It's substantial," I explained. "I know that all of the Louisiana Sheriffs are attending along with Red Rita and the Arkansas Sheriffs. I am fairly certain that only de Castro and Sandy are coming from Nevada."

By this time, Sookie had turned completely to face me and was sitting on her knees with her hands resting on the headrest of her seat. She studied them as if looking for clues.

"Why so many from de Castro's kingdom?" she asked. "Are the other monarchs bringing that many?"

"Doubtful," Pam responded. "I guess this is a way to have guests on Eric's 'side of the aisle'." Pam's 'Emily Post' assessment came out as a derisive sneer.

"Or it could be 'Custer's Last Stand'," Sookie whispered, seemingly to herself.

"What do you mean, Sookie?" Pam asked.

"Bill, both you and Eric have told me that de Castro is worried that Oklahoma or Arizona may try to take over his kingdom. Freyda is inviting most of de Castro's retinue to her wedding in Oklahoma…she has home field advantage if she wants to try something." Sookie tilted her head back in contemplation before asking, "How many Vampires does Oklahoma have?

"No one knows for sure," Pam said. "Her numbers have been increasing. She got a few from Arkansas after de Castro's takeover. She uses a lot of Vampire personnel in her casinos…." Pam's voice trailed off as she tallied numbers in her head. "If I had to guess…I'd say somewhere between four and six hundred."

"I'd say between _five_ and six hundred, Pam," I offered. "She has picked up some additional population with the general decline in the economy." Recent updates to my database had shown the increase in Oklahoma's vampire census.

"All tolled, how many does de Castro have?" Sookie asked

"About the same number would be my guess," I said. "I have made only a few recent updates to the database for his three states."

"So, how many of those five to six hundred of Freyda's Vampires do you think will be at the wedding?" The logic of Sookie's line of questioning had become rapidly apparent. "I don't think they'll all be there, do you?" She asked.

Sookie's line of questioning and suppositions supported my original concern: this wedding was an excuse to allow Freyda to gather her golden eggs in one place. I felt almost lightheaded with the realization that Sookie's questioning had opened up another frightening aspect of Freyda's scheme: who and how many would be minding the castles while the King and his Sheriff's were away?

"You would make a truly wonderful Vampire, Sookie." I said suddenly. Her startled expression made me want to laugh out loud. "You have an innate sense of stratagem." I'd heard Eric say that Sookie's thinking was often 'outside the box.' That was never truer than it was now.

"Where the heck did that come from, Bill?" she asked. "And what do you mean by 'stratagem?'".

Pam's confused expression seemed to say that she was dealing with her own case of whiplash from another sudden turn in the conversation.

"Stratagem, my dear Sookie, is trickery, subterfuge, scheming, or wily plotting. Your questions may have unearthed what may be Freyda's stratagem for her takeover attempt."

One of the benefits of immortality was the time to pursue a variety of interests. War and strategy had long been one of mine. Sookie's questions had made me think of one of Sun Tzu's thirty six strategies: the open feint.

"Deceive the heavens to cross the ocean." I mused aloud. "That may be Freyda's stratagem."

I was lost in the ramifications of Freyda's essential strategy when I felt Sookie's hand on my knee. "Okay Bill, you've lost me and if I didn't know better, I'd swear you'd been drinking." Sookie's comment alerted me that my 'vampire face' must have gone into retreat leaving in its place my awe at the cleverness of Freyda's thinking. So clever in fact that it made me wonder if Eric hadn't been a part of it.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill, spit it out," Pam demanded. Her patience was wearing thin.

"Look, we know de Castro's Vampires were spread pretty thin across the three states. The population of his states is the same size as her one." I explained. "Add that to the fact that she is going to have de Castro, the majority of his Sheriff's, and his telepath on her home turf. What's to say that she won't send a phalanx of her Vampires into Nevada, Louisiana, and Arkansas to be in place when we all return from the wedding?" I looked at both women to see if they caught my logic. "It is an old strategy: make your enemy think you are going to do one thing and then do the opposite. Point east and go west."

"I get it," Pam said. "She knows that de Castro is expecting her to try something at the wedding, so she isn't going to do anything. Is that right?"

"That's right," I said. I looked at Sookie. Her face was locked down. She got it too.

"She won't do anything at the wedding," she mused, repeating Pam's thought. "She'll have all those Vampire bigwigs there and won't want to tip her hand." Her voice was low and quiet as she continued thinking out loud. "She might not be sure of who would align with who if she did." She paused as if gathering her thoughts. "She'll have de Castro return to a kingdom that is already taken over." She had barely finished speaking before she inhaled sharply as if thinking of some awful possibility.

"Pam," she said sharply, "is Stan Davis coming from Texas?" Pam looked taken aback at Sookie's question. Her whiplash continued.

"I suppose so," she said. "All the monarchs in Amun have been asked." Her eyes narrowed sharply at Sookie. "What does that have to do with anything?"

My own curiosity was piqued. Though not completely recovered from his grievous injuries at Rhodes, the King of Texas had only recently begun to take back full control from his lieutenant.

"What are you thinking, Sookie?" I asked gently. I loved watching her as she processed her thinking and wrestled with disparate pieces of information. There was no picture to go by on the front of this puzzle box.

Deep in thought, her gaze drift aimlessly, stopping on nothing long enough to allow focus. She was watching a movie that only she could see. Suddenly her head snapped in my direction, her face paled, and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"Sookie?" I said sharply. "Are you alright?"

"When Nevada took us over," she said slowly as if recalling a memory, "Eric told me that de Castro had to submit a plan to some governing body or clan council or something. They had to approve it. If Freyda is going to try something, wouldn't she have to do the same thing?" Her eyebrows were knit together as if trying to keep her thoughts aligned.

"Yes." Clearly Eric had done much more than I had to make her aware of the complexities of Vampire politics. Not hard since I had never really told her anything. Yet another thing in my long list of things to regret. "In order to keep their support if she is challenged," I explained, "she would need to present and get approval for her plan in advance. Clan leaders don't want some monarch going off half-cocked and endangering the entire clan."

"Eric told me that after Rhodes that Stan Davis' lieutenant was having a hard time holding on to Texas. That de Castro probably had his eye on the state—"

"Holy shit, Sookie!" Pam interrupted. "You think that Freyda is after _Texas_? That all this stuff with Eric and going after de Castro is a smokescreen?" Her eyes darted between Sookie and me as she tried to get a handle on the depth of Freyda's intrigue.

"All I know," Sookie explained, "is that Eric gave me a lesson on the basics of Vampire politics. He explained the four clans and what states made up those clans." She paused as if seeking the best way to continue. "He said that de Castro wasn't afraid of Sophie Ann and was willing to jump on her weakness. Well…Texas is weak. She might think reclaiming Louisiana, Arkansas, and Texas as a way to shore up her own borders and kick out the King that doesn't belong. That would be de Castro."

"What about Nevada?" Pam asked. "Why did you leave de Castro out?"

"Well," Sookie speculated, "both Eric and Bill have said that Nevada is having economic problems. Why would she take on trouble so far from home? That would just make her the one that doesn't belong in Narayana. Besides, she'd have plenty on her plate managing four states."

"So," I said, "if I am putting all the pieces together correctly, you think that Freyda is going to try to wrest control of Arkansas and Louisiana from de Castro and then overthrow Stan Davis in Texas. Is that right?"

"I don't know anything for sure, but it's what makes sense to me. She could get all of Amun back together again, get de Castro out of the picture, and put Texas under a stronger leader who is less vulnerable to an outside takeover. I think Amun's clan leadership could get on board with that, don't you?" she asked as she looked back and forth between Pam and me.

Very succinctly put and if Freyda had presented the plan to Amun's council in just that way, I had little doubt that they would have bought it completely. I could not find any flaws in Sookie's reasoning.

"What about de Castro?" Pam demanded. "Do you think he is just going to hand over the keys to Louisiana and Arkansas? Don't you think that whatever deal de Castro struck with Eric to protect you would have included some provision to alert him if Freyda was planning something?"

Pam raised some valid questions. I was especially interested in what Eric's role might be in all of this. Freyda's sexual interest in him was well known, she'd offered him half of her queendom if he would come to her voluntarily, but his abilities as a fighter and strategist were also well known. For Freyda, Eric would be the total package: body, mind, and brawn. Together there would be little that the two of them couldn't accomplish. They would be a formidable presence in Amun.

Sookie chewed the inside of her lip with that far away look on her face as she pondered Pam's barrage of questions. "I don't know what she will do with de Castro," she admitted. "But I don't think she will do anything at the wedding. She'll get to have her party and then let her troops do her dirty work. De Castro will go back to Nevada and she might do something there or might not. It will probably be Stan Davis that will have a problem on his hands when he goes back to Texas. He probably won't exist long after he gets off the plane." Sookie's face looked stricken as she said that. She and Stan each had reason to hold each other in mutual esteem.

I also noticed that Sookie had very carefully avoided talking about Eric's role to be in Freyda's plans. It was time to put that on the table. "Pam, did Eric tell you _anything_ about his deal with de Castro?" I asked.

Pam's gaze shifted away from Sookie to me. Her hesitation and the look on her face showed that she was torn about what to say.

"I begged him to talk to me about his deal with de Castro, but he wouldn't tell me anything." Pam looked stricken as she recounted her conversation with Eric. "He just said it would be better for all of us if he did what he was supposed to do. He's never kept anything from me before," she finished plaintively.

Well that told me exactly nothing. "Do you have any sense of what he meant by _'better for all of us'_?" I asked."

"I just assumed he was protecting Sookie and his area by going to Freyda to keep her from taking over de Castro's kingdom." Mourning laced her voice as she added, "He would be a peace offering."

"So, you don't know _for certain_ that Eric made a deal with de Castro just to protect Sookie?" I asked, watching Pam carefully. It wouldn't take her long to figure out the implications of my question, and she would be angry. Volcanically angry.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" she shouted. "Why the fuck else would he give himself up to that bitch unless it was to protect her?" she growled as she stabbed her finger in Sookie's direction. Her fangs snapped down. "What the hell are you implying? Why Eric hasn't ended you, I will never understand," she snarled.

"If you will quit posturing for a moment, I will tell you," I said calmly

Pam lunged over the seat as if to grab me.

"Pam, stop it!" Sookie shouted at her as she tried to grab her before she fully launched herself over the seat. "Let him have his say."

Pam retreated slightly, but her low growl seemed to fill the small space between us. She was just barely holding on to her temper.

"Just for a minute let's pretend that this was anyone but Eric that we are talking about," I requested. "Test the logic of what I am about to say. Can you do that?"

The old saying 'if looks could kill' certainly described the heated glare I was getting from Pam.

"Speak your piece," she seethed.

"Thank you." Taking a wholly unnecessary, but calming breath, I laid out my conjectures.

"Let's say you have a master Vampire who is strong, skilled, independent, and justifiably proud of what he has been able to accomplish and is relatively happy with his existence. Suddenly he is required by his King to submit to a contract made by his maker…his _dead_ maker. In submitting he has to give up the woman he loves," I said nodding toward Sookie, "to go to a woman that he cares nothing about and has already rejected on several occasions. To make matters worse, his King uses the woman he loves as leverage to force his cooperation. All of this so that said King can preserve a weak kingdom that he acquired by the assassination of a Queen that said Master Vampire worked for and respected."

Sookie's eyes had been trained on me throughout my monologue. Her face had become more distressed with each word that I spoke and the obvious conclusions that they presented. It was clear to me that her assessment of Eric's current position in Freyda's queendom might be changing. At one time, I would have gloated at the opportunity to take Eric down a peg, but the heartbreak on Sookie's face took away any satisfaction I might have derived from this.

"So," I continued, "our master Vampire has a choice to make. Does he take the deal offered by his King? Give up everything he has worked for and the woman he loves so that the King can save his kingdom, or does he look for a way to get back his life and all that he has worked for?"

I paused to allow both Sookie and Pam to think about what I said. Sookie looked horrified, but Pam's angry features had smoothed out to be replaced by a thoughtful expression. She was weighing my words against her years of experience with Eric. I waited for Pam to jump in and tell me I was totally wrong. Instead she offered a comment that seemed to offer support for my suppositions.

"Eric has never gotten over de Castro's mismanagement of Victor Madden," she revealed. "He thinks the King just turned a blind eye to Madden's dealings to keep him from moving on his Kingdom. He called de Castro a coward." As she finished, she looked me in the eye and nodded slightly to communicate her understanding, if not total acceptance of my theories.

"Pam," I asked, "if it comes to a fight, where will Eric's loyalties be?"

"Whatever agreement he made with de Castro he will honor, but after that I just don't know." Pam paused as if considering her next words. "Eric is always very…_practical._"Eric's survival instincts and pragmatism was well known. "He will do what it takes to protect himself, his assets, and his area. In that order." She added."

"How well I know that," Sookie said quietly, "but he wouldn't be a traitor." Her voice was low, but quietly insistent.

Pam's head whipped around. Her gaze latched on to Sookie. She looked like she was preparing to launch a continuation of her tirade for what she believed to be Sookie's part in Eric's current troubles. Suddenly Pam's expression softened. Her words died at the lost look on Sookie's face. I knew Pam well enough to feel eddies of guilt and heartbreak swirling through her. Pam had merely given a strident voice to Sookie's own self-condemning thoughts.

Silence hung heavily as we each contemplated the trip to Tulsa and what might await us there.

Sookie had certainly managed to highlight some of the concerns for having such a large number of de Castro's people attend. Pam had identified Texas as a possible secondary target, and I had raised the concern that Eric might have more of a vested interest in the success of _Freyda's _plans than we might have imagined. We'd been quite the little think tank, but what a lethal mess we had uncovered.

"We'd better get on with it." Sookie said suddenly. She quickly wiped her eyes. "This ridiculous _'wedding'_ isn't going to go away regardless of who is planning what." Turning toward Pam she asked, "Pam, do you want to blow this off?"

Pam's eyebrows shot upward as she tilted her head and considered Sookie carefully. "No, I suppose not."

"Well, let's go then," Sookie said as she turned back in her seat and reached to fasten her seatbelt. "What kind of clothes do they have at the place you're taking me?"

As Pam started the car, Sookie continued to ask questions about the shop, shoes, and possible accessories. She carried on as if the last thirty minutes hadn't happened. Tension collected between my brows and down my neck. Her sudden change in her demeanor was troubling.

Turning in her seat to look behind her as she backed out of the parking spot, Pam caught my eye and raised her eyebrows as if to question the seeming change in Sookie's disposition. I could only shrug in response. I had no more idea about Sookie's state of mind than she did. She had been hit with Pam's vitriolic criticism and my conjectures about Eric's loyalties, yet she seemed to have walled it away for the time being. I was worried.

As we made the drive to Line Avenue, I studied Sookie from the back seat. Normally, she was a very attentive listener. She would look at the speaker, nod, and comment. It was a strategy she used with humans to separate their spoken words from their private thoughts and one that drew both humans and supernaturals to her. When you were in Sookie's company, she _engaged_ with you, you became the center of her attention. Now, however, even though Sookie would nod periodically at Pam's running commentary, her focus seemed to be somewhere else. Physically, she was sitting in the front seat of Pam's car, but her periodic nods and persistent gaze out of the car's passenger window had a distracted, disconnected quality to them. Sookie had every reason to feel distracted, but the tightening in my gut reminded me how off kilter her behavior felt.

"We're here," Pam said as she pulled to a stop in front of a small store front. The sign on the canopy read Chez Rivage Boutique.

"Looks expensive," Sookie observed.

"It is," Pam replied, "but it carries the nicest clothes in Shreveport. That's not saying much." Pam's critical superiority had returned.

"I'm sure we'll find something. Let's go," Sookie said purposefully as she opened her door. "Are you coming, Bill?"

"I think I'll just take a spot at the Starbucks across the street." I was acceding to Pam's raised eyebrow and pointed stare. She clearly wanted me out of the way. "I can work on my laptop while you shop. If you need me to manage packages, one of you can call me on my cell, and I will come collect them."

The coffee shop's location would allow me to watch the front entrance, but would be far enough away to give them their privacy. Before crossing the street, I made a quick trip to the back of the store. I tested the delivery entrance to make sure it was locked and felt reasonably certain that Sookie would be safe inside.

An hour and a half later, I looked up to see Sookie and Pam coming out the door of the shop. I gathered my things and joined them as Sookie loaded two dress bags and a shopping bag in Pam's trunk.

I placed my computer case in the back along with her purchases. "Successful hunting, ladies?" I asked

Sookie simply nodded, her face was expressionless showing no trace of interest or excitement about her purchases. It appeared that she was just going through the motions of preparing for the trip to Tulsa. I had no way of knowing for certain what was going on in her head, but the twisting in my gut had returned.

"It seems our little Sookie's fashion sense has become more _adventurous_," Pam said cryptically, "and it appears that my taste has become too sedate for her." Resting her arms on the top of her car, she continued. "I'm not sure what impression our little Sookie is trying to make in Tulsa, but it ought to be interesting." The words were delivered with Pam's usual wry tone, but there was no smile in her eyes.

Sookie just looked at Pam and made no comment other than a raised eyebrow. Her mouth remained in a grim line. I wondered if they had argued inside the store. There was definitely something going on behind her eyes that I could not put my finger on. In times past, I had seen love, lust, anger, fear, sorrow, joy, and mischief in those blue eyes. There was a frightening quality to the pure calculation and determination that now glittered in her eyes.

Sookie was plotting.

The nagging worry I had felt earlier had now mushroomed to full blown concern. My fangs slid down involuntarily as if a threat were nearby.

"Why don't you sit up front, Bill?" Sookie suggested as I held the front passenger door open for her. "You'll be less cramped that way." She walked past the open door and let herself into the back seat. I looked at Pam over the roof of the car. Again, she just shrugged her shoulders and got into the driver's seat.

I settled into my seat and felt buffeted by eddies of tension flowing between Pam and Sookie. I didn't like not knowing what was wrong; especially, when that uncertainty was making my senses go into alert. I could only hope that Sookie would talk to me on the drive back to Bon Temps.

Pam pulled out of the parking space and started the drive back to Fangtasia.

"Did you find some things you liked, Sookie?" I asked hoping that I could get a read on Sookie's state of mind.

"I found some things. They're alright." was her disinterested response. Pam glanced in the rearview mirror, craning her neck trying to see Sookie's face.

"Will you need anything else before we depart for Tulsa?" Pam asked. Her tone was light and girlish. She was clearly trying to ease the friction between the two of them.

"Shoes," Sookie answered vaguely. Her voice sounded distracted and her one word answer communicated her disinterest in the whole topic of shopping for Tulsa.

"Would you like me to bring you into Shreveport to shop next week?" I prompted. Mentally, I was willing Sookie to open up and engage in conversation.

"No," Sookie said emphatically, "I'll take care of it." She huffed out an annoyed sigh.

"I know a good shoe store, Sookie." Pam's voice was unnaturally bright. "We'll stop there before we go back to Fangtasia." Pam might hold Sookie partially responsible for Eric's predicament, but it seemed that she didn't want to lose her friend.

"No, Pam, I said I can shop for shoes on my own," Sookie said firmly. Clearly she wanted Pam to leave her alone. "I'd really like to just be quiet for awhile, if you don't mind."

"As you wish." Pam's hands tightened on the steering wheel as the speedometer edged upward. Pam was plainly done with trying to recoup her relationship with Sookie. I was more certain each mile we covered that Pam had said something to Sookie. The ride back to Fangtasia was made in silence and in record time.

Pam pulled into her spot at the rear of Fangtasia and cut the engine, but she didn't make a move to get out of the car. Sookie and I slid out and went to the back of the car. We stood quietly waiting for Pam to open the trunk with her remote. Several seconds ticked by before Pam got out. Suddenly she was directly in front of Sookie nearly nose to nose with her. Pam's face was tight and angry, her fangs were fully down and glistening in her cold, deadly smile. Her once delicate hands were clenched in to tight fists. The illusory soccer mom façade fell away to reveal the killing machine inside.

My fangs slid down and I felt myself move into a slight crouch as my hands curled into claws. Peripheral vision fell away as I focused on the two women. I edged nearer to Sookie prepared to pull her out of the way should Pam's anger escalate.

"What are you up to, Sookie?" Pam's quietly voiced question held a deadly edge.

"I'll let you know when I come up with something." Sookie's voice was expressionless as she held Pam's glare. She didn't flinch at either the lethality of Pam's tone or her aggressive posture.

"Just make sure you don't fuck things up for Eric more than you already have." Pam snarled. She continued trying to stare Sookie down. Finally, she held out her remote, pressed the button to open the trunk, and then stalked toward Fangtasia's back door. "Close it when you get your crap out," she called out as the door slammed shut.

I looked back at Sookie. She avoided my gaze, keeping her head down and focusing her attention on the shopping bags. She pulled out one of her garment bags and draped over her arm before reaching for the other one.

"Is there something I should know?" I asked as we put the bags in the back of my car.

"Don't think so." She said. She slammed the trunk and walked to the passenger side waiting for me to unlock the doors. I felt my own frustration and concern boil to the surface. I didn't like this version of Sookie. She seemed to have erected an invisible, impenetrable wall around herself. Worst of all, I didn't know why. By her composure, it appeared that for the time being no one was going to be invited inside.

We'd been in the car for about twenty minutes in absolute silence except for the sound of road noise, Sookie's soft rhythmic breathing and heartbeat. She sat in her seat, hands folded in her lap and feet crossed at the ankles, a prim, lady-like posture that belied the coiled tension I felt radiating from her.

"Sookie, talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?"

"What happened between you and Pam?"

"I tried to talk to her about Eric and this whole mess. I asked her about Freyda. What is she like? How old is she? Why does she want Eric?" Sookie paused. "I asked if Eric had a plan and she got really mad at that and told me to _'butt out.'_" She chewed on the inside of her lip thinking. After a stretch of thoughtful silence she spoke again. "All I got from her is that she misses Eric and she's mad at me. She doesn't want to be, but she is."

"Sookie, I told you that Eric made his choices. He is not stupid. You were…you _are_…worth it for him."

"How is it _'worth it'_ Bill, if Eric is forced into an agreement that places him in a situation and state that he doesn't want to be in? Ocella may have made the deal with Freyda, but how am I supposed to feel when he was forced into following through on it because of me? If it hadn't been for me, he would have found a way out of it. Pam knows it, she's pissed about it, and to be honest, I don't blame her."

"Vampires are often placed in situations they didn't choose and certainly didn't want."

"Hmpf. Don't I know it?"

"Why did she ask what you were planning?" I asked. I had a dreadful feeling in the pit of my gut what the answer would be, but wanted to hear Sookie say it. I needed and yet dreaded hearing my worries confirmed.

"Because I told her that I didn't think that Eric was playing both ends against the middle." She turned to pin me with a cold, level stare. "I think you are wrong about that, Bill. I told her that Eric might have a bone to pick with de Castro, but he wouldn't go back on his word. Whatever it is." Her words rang with conviction and determination. She simply refused to believe that Eric would fall back on the pragmatism and opportunism for which he was so well known.

"That's why I asked if he had a plan," she explained. "If he doesn't then _we_ need to do something about it. It makes no sense to just continue sitting on our hands waiting for the other shoe to drop." Sookie huffed out a huge sigh that reeked of her irritation. "She told me to leave it alone, because I wouldn't do anything but get myself, or Eric, killed."

I could see her mental gears grinding as she scrambled trying to develop some kind of plan. I needed to find a way to forestall it, whatever _it_ might be, before she did get herself killed.

"She's right, Sookie," I said. "Trying to pull something in Tulsa, on Freyda's _'home turf'_ as you call it is a far cry from sneaking into Fangtasia."

"No kidding, Bill," she said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms under her breasts. It was distracting the way the gesture accentuated her chest, but I recognized her well-known 'tell' for when she was about to tell me to mind my own business. After a moment, she uncrossed her arms and turned in her seat to face me more fully, one leg tucked underneath her. "Look, we just sat in Pam's car and talked all about how de Castro is pretty sure Freyda is going to try something in Tulsa and that he is taking the bulk of his leadership into the trap." She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a gesture of annoyance. "Why aren't either you or Pam in de Castro's face about this? If Freyda takes over, it could be your end as well as Eric's and Pam's and possibly mine as well."

"Sookie, you need to understand—"

"Stop it, Bill!" She cut me off holding her hand in a 'stop' motion. "Quit trying to soothe me." She closed her eyes and bit her lip in an attempt to calm herself down. "What _exactly_ am I supposed to understand, Bill?" she demanded. "That Eric allowed himself to be sold or given away to protect me from Freyda? That once again, someone I care about is being hurt and made miserable at least in part because of me? Worse still, his King, his child and you are _letting_ it happen?"

She was angry and frustrated, but not adrift. There were no tears. Instead, she was practically vibrating with determination. It was as if she had shopped for steel resolve and fortitude rather than cocktail dresses and ball gowns.

"Sookie, exactly what do you expect us to do?" I asked afraid of the answer. "Do you expect me to call up the King and tell him to not go? Do you think he would allow himself to look like a coward even if he suspects a trap? If Freyda hadn't planned to take him over before, she certainly would now, unless Arizona beat her to it."

She crossed her arms over her chest again and she swiveled back in her seat to look out the windshield. I bit back the smile threatening to stretch the corners of my mouth. She could be so insufferable. As upset as she was capable of making me, she had a way of dowsing that anger without knowing it. I took in an unnecessary but effective breath. I knew that despite Sookie's three years in the supernatural world and learning a few things about our culture and politics, she had never accepted our ways. Nor, did I think she ever would. Just like she would never believe until it was proven to her that Eric might be an active participant in de Castro's overthrow.

"Tell me what you know about Freyda, Bill? What do you know about her kingdom? Does she have a special gift or talent like being able to fly like you and Eric?"

For the remaining fifteen minutes of our road trip and for about an hour sitting in my car outside her house, I told her as much as I knew about Freyda, the Queen of Oklahoma.

"You've seen her," I said. "She is beautiful and ambitious. To my knowledge, she doesn't have any special gift other than having an excellent head for business." I paused trying to think what would help Sookie get the picture of Freyda that see seemed to be looking for. "Her businesses operate profitably and smoothly, her Sheriffs and subjects are loyal, but then they know the consequences of betrayal." I paused to look at Sookie. She just waved her hand gesturing that I should go on.

"Her subjects pay higher than average tithes, but she has a reputation of ruling her kingdom fairly, but with a promise of swift retribution for those who fail her. Her chief enforcer is a very tall, very skilled American Indian with a reputation as a fearsome fighter. He is both her child and her sole advisor—"

Sookie interrupted me with an impatient wave of her hand. "I don't want the Chamber of Commerce biography, Bill. I want to know about _her," _sheprodded_. _ I set aside my irritation at her sarcasm to wonder at the machinations of her calculating mind. "What are her weaknesses?" she asked. "What gets under her skin? What is she _prideful_ about?"

I thought about Sookie's questions. Freyda's business acumen was unparalleled…her kingdom was stable and profitable… I looked for any chink in Freyda's armor rejecting one notion after another. Then I remembered the night of Eric and Sookie's 'divorce.' Her preening, cold-eyed charm in that conference room, her grandiose description of her kingdom compared to de Castro's, her demands for Eric's attentions…

"She's narcissistic," I said. "She needs to be the center of attention and attempts to gain it by frequent mentions of what she sees as her unparalleled beauty, intelligence, wealth, and unlimited power in her state." I paused trying to remember my various encounters with Freyda. "Do you remember seeing her in Rhodes?" I asked. "She was the belle of the ball. She feeds off of the attention of men, both Vampire and human when they are in her presence and she has a reputation for sexual prowess."

"Well, that explains a few things," Sookie observed. "There are so many 'events' at this so called wedding it'll give her plenty of opportunities to show off." I nodded in agreement. "Has she ever _not_ been the belle of the ball?" The tone of Sookie's question set off my internal alarms.

"Not that I know of. She commands whatever room she is in." I told her. "I have seen her go into groups of men, both Vampire and human, to flirt openly and boldly. She uses her sexuality to attract their notice, but once she has it she moves on. I don't know how else to say it, Sookie, she wants…no, she _needs_ to be the center of attention and does what she has to in order to get it. She doesn't take rejection well."

As I spoke, I watched Sookie's face go from thoughtful to speculative to predatory. "She cares little for other women, Sookie. She sees herself as a great beauty and believes that all women are inferior to her. She has the least regard for human women."

From my experience of her, competing with Freyda for the spotlight was often a losing proposition and had the potential to end badly for those who tried it.

Sookie drew in a deep breath, let it out and smiled. Facial expressions can be described in many ways: warm, loving, childlike, evil, sneering, seductive or winning. None of those would work to describe the hard look in Sookie's eyes and the cold smile that lay on her lips. Clearly, a plan had begun to gel in Sookie's mind.

"Okay," she said as if some important decision had been reached.

Color me confused. I had no clue as to what was _'okay.'_

"Okay?" I asked. "Do you care to elaborate?"

"I know where _I_ stand, Bill," she said with steely intensity. I could not look away from the frigid intensity of her stare. "Eric might overthrow a king in a direct assault, but he would never break his word and do it as a traitor. He might leave me for someone he likes better, but he would never willingly take up with a woman like you have described. His maker and his king may have sold him out for their own selfish purposes, but I will not sit back and allow it to happen just to keep myself safe. That's my _'okay_', Bill. Now you and Pam need to decide where you stand and what your _'okay'_ is."

She paused to take a breath before pinning me with her resolute gaze.

"I would make up my mind quick if I were you," she advised as she reached to open the car door. "The shit's about to hit the fan."


	16. Chapter 16: Realization

**AN:** To those of you who review regularly and take the time to leave me reasons why you like what I write, I cannot tell you what that means to me as a writer. I want all reviewers to know that the time you take to comment on this story is time well spent in helping to create a better writer. As a matter of fact there are a couple of things in this chapter that were suggested by reviewers. That's how much you help us.

I apologize that we are not going to Tulsa in this chapter as promised. After a long G-chat with **Joyindenver, **it became clear that some more plot development was needed. Your consolation prize is that we will hear directly from Eric in this chapter. We'll board the plane to Tulsa, hear from de Castro, find out about the necklace and Sookie's maneuverings in the next chapter. PLEASE stay tuned.

**Joy**…you rock my socks. Thank you for everything.

Charlaine Harris is mom to all the kids whose names you recognize. Thank you CH.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

"_I know where I stand, Bill," she said with steely intensity. I could not look away from the frigid intensity of her stare. "Eric might overthrow a king in a direct assault, but he would never break his word and do it as a traitor. He might leave me for someone he likes better, but he would never willingly take up with a woman like you have described. His maker and his king may have sold him out for their own selfish purposes, but I will not sit back and allow it to happen just to keep myself safe. That's my 'okay', Bill. Now you and Pam need to decide where you stand and what your 'okay' is." _

_She paused to take a breath before pinning me with her resolute gaze. _

"_I would make up my mind quick if I were you," she advised as she reached to open the car door. "The shit's about to hit the fan."_

Sookie got out and moved toward therear of my car. I was out of the car and in front of her before she could get to the trunk. She was only slightly startled. Apparently she'd gotten used to my sudden movements or perhaps she'd been expecting it.

"What _exactly_ do you mean, 'the shit is about to hit the fan?'" I demanded. Visions of a bloodbath in Tulsa threatened to overwhelm me making the urge to grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and find a place to lock her up course through my brain like wildfire.

"Just what I said." She spoke as if we had been talking about the weather, showing neither fear nor concern for the possibilities of what might await us in Tulsa. "You gonna' open the trunk. It's gettin' late and I have to work tomorrow."

As she tried to step around me I grabbed her arm and spun her around to face me.

"Sookie, did you hear _nothing_ of what I said? Freyda's self-involved narcissism does not allow her to suffer human women well." I scrubbed my hand over my face trying to get a grip on myself. "What _exactly_ are you planning to do?" Yet another question that I had to ask, but feared the answer.

Foreboding twisted in my gut at the prospect of what her fertile brain might be concocting while she just stood there practically tapping her foot in impatience. She'd clearly lost her mind. No sane human would consider going into a huge gathering of Vampires and think that causing trouble would end in nothing but their own end.

"This is Victor Madden all over again." she spat out. "You and Pam are just sitting on your rumps waiting for something to happen. Somebody needs to force her hand. I can't imagine de Castro just sitting around and waiting." She huffed out an exasperated sigh and tried to push past me again.

I zipped a head of her to block her access to the trunk. She just stood there, her eyes shooting daggers at me. She turned on her heal and started toward her back door. Once again, I sped quickly to intercept her.

"We can play this game all night, Sookie." No trace of the friend or former lover could be found in my voice. "What are you planning?" I was determined to know what was brewing in that head of hers. "Besides, if you think that de Castro is planning something, why in the name of God do you think you need to get involved?"

She pulled up short, mildly startled at my sudden appearance in front of her as I blocked her path to her door.

"Get out of my way, Bill." There was no trace of my past lover or current friend in her voice either as she tried again to push past me.

"Not until you tell me what you are planning to do," I said slowly and emphatically. I was not as tall as Eric, but I had Sookie by a good five to six inches, several pounds, and a pair of fangs. If reason wouldn't work, intimidation might.

"And if I don't?" she challenged. Neither her eyes nor her expression showed any sign of retreat.

"Then you won't be going to Tulsa," I said moving closer and crowding her so that she was forced to back up. "I will find a way to lock you up so that you don't get yourself killed."

"I think King de Castro might have something to say about that," she observed. Her matter-of-fact tone was cool, detached. By now her back was to the wall of her home. She seemed very self-possessed and certain of her own position; nothing in her posture or facial expression showed fear, anxiety, or uncertainty. I might as well have been trying to threaten Eric.

"You are playing a dangerous game here, Sookie."

"You think this is a _game _to me, Bill!" she shouted, her reserve finally exploding. Her face had contorted into a mask of rage and despair.

"It is not one you will win!" I shouted back at her. "You'll just end up getting yourself and probably the whole lot of us killed. The very least you could do is give me a clue about the stupidity you are planning." I wanted to pressure her into confiding in me, but instead I found myself losing control. The prospect of Sookie creating a disruption at an event attended by some of the oldest and most ruthless vampires in the Americas was terrifying. I and other vampires might survive it, but Sookie would not.

Without warning, her hand connected with my cheek in a stinging slap. That pushed me over the edge. I grabbed both of her hands and pinned them behind her back as I forced her against the wall, trapping her with the weight of my body. My fangs were fully extended. The menacing sound ringing in my ears was the low growl rumbling in my chest.

"You don't get to do that when I am trying to save your life." My mouth was next to her ear, my voice as menacing as I could make it. "You _will_ listen to me."

Sookie's struggling suddenly stilled. I continued to hold her pinned for a few seconds longer before pulling back expecting to see tears in her eyes. When she tilted her head to look at me, I only saw the flat, unblinking stare of a snake. Her face was absolutely expressionless as she regarded me.

"What are you planning, Sookie?" I growled in a menacing whisper. I loosened slightly my grip on her hands and eased back marginally on the pressure of my body against hers, but continued to keep her confined. I hoped she would yield to my pressure.

I hoped she would cry and begin to talk to me.

I hoped I could get her to realize that her life was precious to me and that I could not allow her to endanger it when she could not prevail in a setting with creatures who could kill her with a flick of their wrists.

My hopes were in vain.

Sookie continued to look up at me, regarding me calmly. No fear. No anger. No cooperation. She wasn't going to tell me a damn thing. With a gusty snort of fury, I released her. My action had been so sudden that she stumbled backward the short distance to the wall of her home and remained there regarding me calmly.

"Are you going to keep yelling and threatening me?" she asked quietly.

"For the time being, no," I answered angrily. I couldn't look at her, afraid that she would see the depth of both my anger and my dread.

"Eric helped me get you out of Jackson." She stated matter of factly. Her voice carried such a quiet intensity that I was forced to listen carefully. "I didn't have to go to him, he came to me. He offered. I didn't even have to ask."

"He purposely put you in danger," I replied. "He was more concerned about what the Queen might do to him if I wasn't found."

"It's true that he didn't care about you, Bill." she admitted. "To be precise, he cared about whatever project you were working on and was pissed that the Queen had co-opted you and didn't tell him anything about it. He didn't know anything about the database." Her eyes slewed away from me to focus on something out in the yard. "But he knew _I_ cared about you. He knew _I_ wanted you safe." She paused. "If he only wanted the database, he would have tortured me to find out what I knew about it. He threatened to do that."

_That_ I did not know and I didn't know what to say. It gutted me to think that she had been threatened even before facing the horrors in Jackson and that she had still been willing to place herself in jeopardy to save me.

"Bill, I have to do _something_." Her eyes began to glisten in the pale light from the security lights. "Do you think I don't know what is probably going on? I do, you know."

"Why don't you just tell me what you are thinking?" I encouraged, hoping that the dam of her silence would break. I stepped back to allow her to move past me. She sat wearily on the back steps.

"It's cool out tonight. Don't you want to go inside?" I asked.

"It's cool alright," she paused to look up at the moon and the stars that were so easy to see in the dark night, "but it's really pretty out tonight. I love the smell of wood smoke in the air and the moon is so beautiful." There was wistfulness in her voice that spoke of wanting a much simpler life.

I stood on the porch behind her and watched the moonlight bounce off of her hair, turning it to liquid platinum. Regret washed over me as I wondered yet again if following my heart might have allowed us to have that simple life together.

"When I heard about the contract," she said suddenly, "I didn't have to be a genius to figure out why Ocella did it." She glanced over her shoulder to look at me. "He wanted to move Eric up in ya'll's world. I guess he thought being a Sheriff wasn't good enough for his 'son.'" She hugged her knees, shivering slightly in the cool air. I took off my jacket and put it around her shoulders as I sat down beside her. "I am also pretty sure," she continued, "that he wanted something…_someone_…better for Eric than me. He told me just before he died that I would never have him…" Her voice trailed off gloomily.

The light wind in the trees and the faint sounds of cars rushing by on Interstate 20 were the only break in the silence. With a deep intake of breath, Sookie began again.

"I also figure that de Castro knows an opportunity when he sees one," she said. "Just before the big effort to bring Madden down, Eric told me that he appealed to de Castro to step in so that he wouldn't have to honor the contract that Ocella made. Then everything happened so fast with taking care of Madden that we…_I_…never heard if de Castro ever replied. The next thing I knew, you were taking me out to dinner to tell me that Eric had been punished for killing Madden and that he was going to have to marry Oklahoma." Her voice was unutterably sad.

"Sookie, none of that was your doing. It is not unusual in our world for a maker to use his child to further his or her own ambitions." I could hold up Lorena as proof of that. "Why do you feel any need to step in? What exactly do you think you are going to accomplish?"

"Eric hated everything that was happening to him because of what Ocella roped him into. The night he finally told me about all of it, I'd never seen him so upset and so trapped." Sookie paused, closing her eyes as if feeling Eric's pain again. "He told me everything that it would mean if he had to go through with it and told me everything he had done to try to get out of it. He's never lied to me. Oh, he's withheld the whole truth from time to time, but he's never outright lied to me." She turned to look at me as if silently pleading for my understanding. "Bill, he told me he didn't want this, and I believe him."

I was having a hard time separating my knowledge of the supernatural world from my cynicism and distrust of Eric's motives. I decided it was best for me to remain silent.

"Pam was right," Sookie continued, "she just told me what I already knew. Eric _wouldn't_ have gone through with it if it wasn't because of me. He'd have just picked up stakes and left. He has said more times than I can count that he has built and lost countless businesses, made and lost fortunes He wouldn't have hesitated to do it again unless de Castro held sway over him." Sookie leaned forward resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her clenched fists. "I'm afraid the sway was me."

"What are you planning to do in Tulsa, Sookie?" I hoped that she would give me some hint, so that I would have some way to prepare to protect her. The possibilities were endless; some advance warning would be nice.

Sookie reached forward to take hold of my left wrist and pushed up my shirt sleeve to look at my watch.

"Wow, it's getting late. I'm on lunch shift tomorrow." Arching her eyebrow, she asked, "Are you gonna give me my stuff?"

"Don't brush me off," I said sternly. "I think I deserve better than that."

"And I think I deserve better than being manhandled by you." she retorted, fixing me with a level gaze.

"Point taken, but you are playing in a minefield. You make me crazy with the risks you take."

"Ever since I met you, Bill," she patted my knee, "ever since I met you." There was no rancor in her voice, but the look she gave me was one of resignation. In all respects, it was a justifiable feeling. Risk was an intrinsic part of the supernatural world.

Indescribably frustrated and deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, I fished my keys out of my pocket and pressed the trunk release as I walked at human speed the short distance to my car. I retrieved Sookie's parcels from the trunk and ruthlessly suppressed my urge to shake her until her teeth rattled. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other both to and from the car until I felt myself calming down.

"Would you like me to carry these in for you?" I asked. I draped her garment bags over my left arm and offered my right hand to help her stand.

"No, that's okay," she said as she took my hand. "I just need to unlock the door; I can take them from there."

I followed her onto the porch and waited as she unlocked the door. As she pushed it open she turned to take the packages from me. "You're going to call de Castro, aren't you?" she asked, but it was more acknowledgement than a question.

"I feel that I must. If you won't let me know what you are planning, then I need to see if he will release you from your obligation to attend." I watched her face, waiting for the explosion to come.

"Do what you gotta' do," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Sookie, why won't you talk to me about this?" It took some effort to keep the pleading tone out of my voice.

"Mostly because I haven't decided what to do and we _have_ been talking about it." Notes of exasperation crept into her voice. "I thought I made it clear. Just like I couldn't stand by and let you suffer and be betrayed by Lorena's hand, I can't let Eric have his free will taken from him because I was used as leverage."

"You realize," I stressed, "that if de Castro thinks you are doing anything to endanger him, he _will _kill you. I don't care how much he thinks he owes you, what he promised Eric, or how valuable you are as a telepath. If he thinks you are going behind his back you will…not…last…long." I was unused to praying, but I caught myself sending up a silent entreaty to whatever god that would listen that Sookie would take my words seriously.

"I am not new here, Bill. I get it," she retorted. "You don't need to keep reminding me." She shifted the packages in her arms and stepped over the threshold into her home. "Besides, I may actually be able to do something that will help him. I haven't gotten it all worked out in my head just yet. Who knows," she paused, putting on a very unsettling smile, "it could actually be _fun_. Goodnight, Bill."

I stood there, staring at the closed door marveling at and slightly wary of the calculating and increasingly aggressive woman that Sookie had become. I couldn't deny, as much as I might want to, that she seemed to have become well-versed in the machinations of Vampire politics. Walking to my car, I thought about her role in planning and executing Madden's demise. It had been a significant test and she had performed well even if she'd had second thoughts about it when it was all said and done. I just hoped that she wasn't relying on that success to be a predictor of how the intrigues in Tulsa might play out. It could be a final exam for her in every sense of the word.

I'd only been home about fifteen minutes when I got a text message from Pam: _'Eric's office 2mor 930'_

Not much to go on, so I decided that I would hold off on contacting de Castro until after tomorrow night. We didn't leave for Tulsa until next Thursday. A week would give me time to work on Sookie to either tell me what she had planned or try to rein her in. I didn't want to do it and Sookie would hate me for it, but there was no way that I was going to let her get herself into trouble.

The next evening after calling Sookie to check in with her, I made my way to Shreveport. As beautiful as the previous evening had been, this one was just as nasty. A cold rain beat a steady tattoo on my windshield and the watery halo surrounding the oncoming headlights looked like low flying alien ships coming in for a landing. This would have been a wonderful night to be inside with Sookie watching one of her old movies that she loved so much. Instead, I found myself driving on rain slick roads to Fangtasia. What awaited me there was anyone's guess.

Winter evenings had always been slow at Fangtasia. I supposed that the fangbangers and Vampire wannabes did not like having to put on a coat or jacket over their tasteless, revealing outfits. It ruined whatever look or impression that they were trying to create. So, it wasn't too surprising that the club was relatively quiet when I entered. Pam spotted me right away and waved me over to where she was sitting in Eric's designated booth.

"Bill," Pam said by way of greeting.

"Pam," I replied as I sat down.

A server brought over a warmed Tru Blood for me and placed it on a napkin in front of me. I sipped it while Pam and I sat in silence observing the limited action on the floor. After nearly twenty minutes I decided I would break our silence.

"Was there something specific you wanted from me, Pam?" I gestured to her mostly empty glass of blood. "Or did you just want a drinking partner?"

"No," she said tersely.

I had my mouth open to ask which question she was saying 'no' to when her head snapped toward the club's entrance. I was surprised when seconds later Eric entered the club trailing two body guards behind him. His physical appearance was returned to normal after his punishment, but his expression and his dress were those of a man who was anyone other than the Vampire Sheriff I knew so well. His carriage was the only thing that looked like the Eric Northman with which I was familiar. He was still every bit the leader, but now more than a Sheriff. Now his bearing was that of a king or prince consort as he would become in a few days time.

The faces of the bar staff and customers registered the shock that I felt. He was dressed in his trademark black from head to toe, but his standard club wear: black wife beater, leather pants, elaborate belt buckle and boots had been replaced by a beautifully cut and tailored suit. It might have been Armani, Tom Ford, or Savile Row, but whatever it was, it fit him perfectly as did the black silk shirt and tone-on-tone black striped tie. The white gold cufflinks, highly polished Italian leather loafers, and blond hair tied back in a pony tail at the base of his neck completed his look and lent him an aura of both power and menace.

Music through the speakers from KDED was the only sound in the club as patron conversations were muted or had ceased altogether. Those who recognized him were stunned by his transformation; those who didn't were drawn to the authority that rolled off of him. His was an affective presence and for the first time, I began to understand, _really understand_, what it meant to live for a thousand years. Ten centuries of existence had given him a rare presence and the ability to dominate whatever room he was in. I suddenly knew…knew with _certainty_…why Madden had hated him and de Castro feared him: they both knew that in a head to head confrontation, he would win. Madden had tried to force his hand and had lost his head. De Castro was trying to use him to save his kingdom and the jury was still out as to whether or not the King would pay the price for using Sookie as leverage. Eric looked like the perennial winner he was and in our world, winners are both revered and feared.

Afraid I might embarrass myself by continuing to stare at him, I looked away to glance at Pam. The look on her face was priceless and her disorientation so great that she almost seemed dizzy. Her Maker, the ruthless Sheriff and rakish ladies man, had been replaced by a suave and debonair don.

Pam's eyes, topped with eyebrows riding near her hairline, traveled up and down Eric's body as he came to a standstill in front of our table. "Did somebody _die_?" she asked; her voice as incredulous as it was amused.

"You will," he said tonelessly, 'if you don't get your ass into my office. We have things to discuss."

Pam slid out of the booth immediately, inclined her head respectfully, and headed toward the back of the club, her heels clicking across the concrete floor. Eric turned his attention to me.

"After you, Bill," he said, standing aside to let me slide out of the booth. A small smirk lay on his lips. He must have noticed my careful scrutiny as he entered the club.

The noise remained subdued as the customers watched the scene playing out at Eric's booth; they almost seemed to be holding their breath. The sound of Eric's and the guards' footsteps was almost loud as we walked in tight formation toward his office. Apparently his guards, different from the ones he'd had before and looking almost like Secret Service agents, were still on point to report Eric's actions back to Freyda.

Inside Eric's office, Pam remained standing behind one of the guest chairs in front of his desk. One of the two guards posted himself outside the door and the other entered with us taking his seat on the sofa on the wall across from the desk and behind where Pam and I would sit. I stood with Pam behind the other guest chair as Eric placed the brief case in the center of his desk and took his seat. Eric gestured to Pam and I that we should be seated.

Without speaking, Eric snapped open the locks of the brief case and pulled out three folders: one for himself and one each for Pam and me. Eric set the briefcase on the floor next to his chair and brought his folded hands to rest on top of the file folder on the desk top. He fixed Pam and I with an unwavering gaze.

"First, I'd like to thank you both for everything you have done to keep Area 5 running smoothly," he said nodding at Pam, "and for taking care of my assets in such a respectful and responsible manner." He finished by nodding at me. "I am resigning as Sheriff of Area 5, and upon becoming Prince Consort, I will swear my fealty to Freyda, Queen of Oklahoma." Neither his eyes nor his voice showed any more emotion than had he been discussing the ordering of supplies for the bar. "I will sign the paperwork tonight, and it will be sent by DeadEx to King de Castro. The resignation becomes effective immediately upon my signature."

He turned to look more directly at Pam. The hard look on his eyes softened somewhat as he looked at his Child. Eric was often ruthless and sometimes cruel, but there was never any doubt about how his feelings for his only Child. Quite simply put: he loved her.

"Pam," he said, "I have negotiated with de Castro for you to officially take my place as Sheriff. He has been pleased with the running of Area 5 in my absence and sees no reason why you shouldn't continue."

Pam slid forward in her chair and started to protest, but Eric held up his hand in a stop motion. Her face looked anguished, but she sat back and remained silent. Her hands gripped the arm rests so hard that her knuckles were white. She looked as if she was struggling to keep from crying.

"Inside the folder that I gave you, Pam, is the list of cases that still need to be resolved in the area. I have written a summary of the disputes as well as sentencing options in each case. I have also included all account numbers, passwords, and any other information that you need to manage my commercial assets. Of course, if you have questions, I expect that you will call me." He paused and smiled at her. "I am not going to the moon; I am only going to Oklahoma. I have no doubt that you will make me proud."

With those words, Pam lost the battle. Pink tinged tears began to slide down her face. Pam and I had had our differences over the decades, but her feeling of loss was palpable. She and Eric and been together almost continuously since her making. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. I didn't use them, but they had frequently come in handy with Sookie. Pam took it and dabbed at the tears before wadding the handkerchief into her fist.

"Bill," he said turning to focus on me, "I have two tasks for you if you would favor me with your help and expertise."

I inclined my head respectfully to indicate my acquiescence.

"I seem to remember that you handled Sophie Ann's investments for a number of years. Is that correct?" he asked. His voice was cool, detached, and business like.

"Yes, Sheriff. I managed them until the time of her final death at which time her assets were absorbed by King de Castro."

"If you will look inside your folder, Bill, I have provided you with a list of all of my stock, bond and real estate holdings. I am most interested in your management of the real estate holdings as there are several that I would like to sell." He paused again, giving me a significant look. "Take a minute and look through them."

I flipped past the several pages of spreadsheet listings of stocks and bonds to the two page list of real estate holdings. There were some apartment buildings, commercial strip centers, some single family rental properties, and several homes in Shreveport and surrounding areas. As I ran my finger down the list of rental properties, it stopped suddenly on a very familiar address: 100 Hummingbird Lane.

Sookie's address.

Controlling my expression carefully, I looked up at Eric.

"Do you have any thoughts, Bill?" he asked. He didn't own Sookie's house. _Was this his way of getting information about her?_

"Yes," I said trying to think of a way to let him know about Sookie's plotting. At the very least he should be afforded some idea that she was up to something. "I am not familiar with all of the areas in which your rental properties are located, but it appears there are several in _depressed_ areas with which I am very familiar." I said putting slight emphasis on the word depressed. "You may want to consider your investment in those locations. They could _cause you some problems_." I glanced at Eric to see his eyebrows knitted together in a slightly confused and wary expression. "May I?" I asked indicating that I would like to come around the desk and point out the 'problem areas' to him.

He inclined his head, wordlessly granting permission.

I rose from my seat and glanced quickly at the guard sitting on the sofa. He was engrossed in texting on his cell phone and appeared to be paying no attention to our conversation. However, like most Vampires I was sure that while he might not be totally focused on us he was aware of his surroundings and giving at least giving marginal attention to our conversation. I would have to choose my words carefully.

Pam watched as I made my way around the desk. She looked perplexed at such in depth conversation over rental properties. She had no way of knowing that we were actually talking about Sookie.

Putting the list down on the desk in front of Eric, I leaned over to point at the listing for 100 Hummingbird Land. "The listings in this area are particularly troublesome. I also have an interest in this area." In my peripheral vision, I could see the guard still stabbing away at his phone. "The tenants are generally dissatisfied with the rental agreement in light of the changing circumstances of the economy."

"How have they expressed this dissatisfaction?" Eric asked.

"Several of my tenants have contacted my property manager to complain. There have been threats of creating some kind of organized protest or demonstration to force landlords to lower their rents." I looked at Eric. As I expected he understood the message I was trying to relay: _Sookie was scheming._ Pam's gaze bounced between Eric and I as if she were watching a puzzling tennis match.

"Humans." Eric's guard grunted with a tone of absolute disgust. He never looked up as he continued punching the keys on his cell phone, but it was clear that our conversation was being actively overheard.

"Do you have any sense of what these _protests_ might look like?" Eric asked as he turned his attention away from the guard.

"Not at this time," I replied, "but I am planning to keep an eye on it and will contact you if there is any decision that you need to make regarding a change in the rental arrangement or disposition of the property."

"Thank you, Bill. I will expect you to keep me apprised if the situation escalates." Once more, I inclined my head respectfully and returned to my seat.

"Pam, have you thought of who you would select as your Second?" Eric asked, turning his gaze back to his Child.

"Maxwell Lee. He'll be okay, I think." Pam's flat, toneless voice made it clear that she did not relish the prospect of her new position in the Vampire hierarchy.

"He's probably a good choice. He'll be able to manage the administrative trivia that goes with the job of Sheriff. Besides, he'll love using those blasted spreadsheets to keep tract of income and outgo and profit margins and whatever else he likes to total up." Eric's trademark smirk settled over his features as he continued. "He can be the worker bee to your Queen Bee." That little dig at Pam was the first evidence since he arrived of the Eric I had come to know.

Pam seemed to not appreciate the humor. Her face showed only her distress at the prospect of Eric's leaving. Despite my earlier accusations, I didn't think she cared one iota about the position of Sheriff or Maxwell Lee's spreadsheets.

No obvious emotion played across Eric's features, but his eyes softened perceptibly as he watched Pam struggle with the realization that she would be on her own again. I saw the Maker regarding his Child, not the Sheriff observing his Second and successor.

"Well, then," Eric said, shaking himself out of his reverie, "if neither of you have any questions about what I have asked you to do, then I suppose I should take care of the last item of business." He paused for a moment looking back and forth between Pam and me. "Alright then," he said, satisfied that we were not going to delay the inevitable.

Eric flipped open the folder before him on the desk. "This is my resignation. Once I sign it, Pam, you get to be Sheriff and I will be out of your hair." He smiled at Pam trying to lighten the mood. "Just promise me you'll wait awhile before you paint the office pink."

Pam nodded wordlessly and watched tearfully as Eric scrawled his name across the bottom of the multipart form. Having done that, he removed the carbon copy and gave it to Pam for her files. She took it without looking at it. Eric took the original and sealed it in an envelope that he handed to me.

"Can I trouble you to DeadEx this to King de Castro for me, Bill?" he asked.

"Yes, Sheriff," I responded. "I will take care of it tonight."

"_Sheriff_ no longer, Bill. Just Eric Northman now." Eric stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and came around the desk. Resting his hand on Pam's shoulder, he asked, "Walk me out, Sheriff Ravenscroft?"

Pam nodded numbly and rose to her feet. "Where will you rest today?" she asked, her face a mask of unhappiness.

"I will rest at my primary residence this day and then go back to Oklahoma at first dark," he said moving toward the door already held open by his guard. Eric and Pam walked side-by-side down the short hallway into the main room of the club.

As they made their way toward the front entrance shadowed by the two guards, I veered off to sit in the booth where tonight's encounter had begun. I imagined that Pam and I had a few things to discuss before the evening was over, but knew that Pam would want to have a few moments alone with Eric.

The crowd had grown somewhat larger since we had been in Eric's office, and I could not hear the conversation between Eric and Pam as they stood at the club's entrance though I didn't really need to hear to know what was going on. Eric and Pam were standing close together and facing one another at the club's entrance. I could see the two guards through the open door standing shoulder to shoulder underneath the awning and within easy listening distance. Pam's rigid posture told the whole story: she was fighting the urge to wrap her arms around Eric. Had she done that, it would have been more than a gesture of affection; she would have been trying to keep him from leaving. But, Pam had been raised by Eric and she would not embarrass him. I felt great respect for her self-control in the face of her anguish.

As Eric talked to Pam, she nodded repeatedly, her eyes downcast. When Eric stopped speaking, Pam looked up at him. Hesitantly and in an act of great tenderness, Eric raised his hand and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. Pam leaned into his caress and nodded slowly, her eyes closing as if to focus on his touch. He then let his hand leave her cheek, travel briefly to her left shoulder, and then down her arm to her hand. The simple act of touch, so rare among Vampires, spoke volumes of Eric's affection for his Child.

Eric began speaking again and continued to hold her hand. Pam opened her eyes to look at him and nodded one more time, more decisively and seemingly more in control than before. Eric released her hand, nodded back at her and then turned to walk out the door. Pam continued to watch until he was driven away by the guards who had shadowed his every step.

Once Eric was out of site, Pam turned quickly and began to make her way back through the crowd. The bartender and a couple of customers tried to intercept her as she made her way back in my direction. She waved them all off. As she neared what I would always think of as Eric's booth, she gestured to me that I should follow her.

I got up and followed her down the hall back toward Eric's office. Once inside, she held her fingers to her lips indicating that I should remain silent. I watched as she walked around the desk and reached underneath it. She came up with Eric's briefcase in her hand. Quickly and quietly she opened the brief case and pulled out a slender bound book. She looked at it and then at me with a look of confusion and then shoved it into her purse that she had retrieved from Eric's bottom drawer. Then, gesturing again that I should remain silent, she replaced the briefcase in the exact spot from which it had come. She then gave me a 'come on' motion indicating that I should follow her.

Intrigue, suspicion, deception and trickery, such was the world of Vampires and it looked like Pam was about to treat me to more of it.

We went out the employee's entrance into the back parking lot. Pam walked briskly to her car gesturing toward the passenger side as she unlocked the doors and got in on the driver's side. Wordlessly she pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Interstate 20. Pam seemed very focused so I continued to keep silent. I found her sudden cloak-an-dagger behavior both unusual and unsettling, but I decided that she would clue me in when she was ready.

We had only been on I-20 a few minutes when she took the I-49 exit toward Alexandria. We drove for about ten minutes when she took an exit that seemingly led to nowhere in the middle of the Coushatta Forest.

"Do you have a destination in mind? I asked.

She just shook her head, and again put her fingers to her lips as she pulled on to a dark unpaved road. She brought the car to a stop and got out gesturing for me to follow her.

We walked over brush and fallen logs into the forest. The rain had stopped, but the trees were still dripping and the air was heavy and pungent from the damp undergrowth. Clouds scudded across the still full moon lending an aura of mystery to the atmosphere. Pam seemed not to notice the either damage to her expensive pumps or the sodden hem of my slacks by the time we came to a small clearing.

Pam stopped and turned to face me. "We couldn't talk in Eric's office or my car. I am pretty sure the car's not bugged, but I didn't want to take the chance."

I nodded my understanding.

"What was all that stuff about Eric's rental properties?" she asked.

"He had Sookie's address in the list of properties. I think that was his way of asking about her. I tried to let him know that she is planning to do something while in Tulsa." Pam's face clouded angrily when I confirmed her suspicions about Sookie's intentions.

"She needs to behave herself. There is nothing she can do that won't endanger Eric," she insisted. Eric would always be her first concern. Sookie would always be mine.

"Pam, I think we can trust Sookie. She would never do anything to endanger Eric." _She endangers herself repeatedly enough_, I thought to myself, but I knew she would never do anything to hurt Eric.

"Put a lid on her, Bill," Pam spat out. "My first official act as Sheriff is to order you to keep her out of trouble."

"As you wish, Sheriff," I said it respectfully, but my internal voice was saying _'Yeah, right…'_ Trying to 'put a lid' on Sookie Stackhouse would be like trying to lasso a tornado. The only thing that would rein Sookie in when she had her mind made up would be to lock her up in Eric's dungeon below Fangtasia. I didn't dare mention it to Pam because she would _gleefully_ jump on the idea.

"When Eric left his briefcase behind, I knew he was trying to tell me something." she stated. She fished around in her enormous handbag and pulled out the slender bound volume she had removed from Eric's briefcase. "What the hell is this about?" she demanded as she handed it over to me.

A human would have had difficulty reading the title in the pale moonlight, but it was perfectly clear to me: _A Narrative of the Life of David Crockett, of the State of Tennessee, Written by Himself_ I almost laughed out loud. As it was, I chucked to myself.

"What's so funny, Bill?" It wasn't just _any_ book that would be funny in this situation. It was _this_ book.

"It's an autobiography of Davy Crockett," I replied, "The King of the Wild Frontier." To be honest, I wanted to draw out her suspense. It was just too delicious and it might shut her up about _'my nerdy interest in history.' _"He wrote it in 1834 when he lost reelection to the U. S. Congress from Tennessee," I told her.

"I can _read_, Bill," she said with towering impatience. "What the hell does a book about some long dead Tennessee cracker have to do with anything?"

"Hero of the Alamo…," I hinted cryptically chuckling inwardly at Eric's cleverness. She continued to look confused. I sighed. "His most famous quote," I prompted, "_'You can go to hell…I'm going to Texas.'_"

Pam stood there staring at me as if willing the answer to appear on my forehead. Her face lit up the moment all the pieces fell into place.

"Fuck a Zombie!" she exclaimed. "Sookie was right. Freyda is going after Texas."


	17. Chapter 17: Taking a Chance

Chapter 17

**AN:** Thank you to all reviewers who take the time to read and comment. I received some very kind reviews and PMs for the last chapter and several of you made some wonderful suggestions and asked some great questions. The wonderful part of the FF community is the ability to engage in dialog about the things that we read and write. It is very uplifting. Thanks so much to **wheresmyvikingvamp** for pushing me to the 300 mark in reviews. I am blown away by everyone's support. Thanks also to **madamegreatness** and **88spike** for their thoughtful and in-depth reviews and comments. **Huge props to 88spike whose excellent history knowledge helped remind Sookie and me of something we had forgotten.** Thanks a ton!

**Joyindenver** is ever patient, ever kind and hugely helpful in keeping me on track with this story, making wonderful plot suggestions and disciplining my commas and quotation marks. You are the best, Chica.

Charlaine Harris is mom to all the kids whose names you recognize. Thanks for creating such a wonderful world for us to play in CH.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

"_I can read, Bill," Pam said with towering impatience. "What the hell does a book about some long dead Tennessee cracker have to do with anything?"_

"_Hero of the Alamo…," I hinted cryptically chuckling inwardly at Eric's cleverness. She continued to look confused. I sighed. "His most famous quote," I prompted, "'You can go to hell…I'm going to Texas.'"_

_Pam stood there staring at me as if willing the answer to appear on my forehead. Her face lit up the moment all the pieces fell into place._

"_Fuck a Zombie!" she exclaimed. "Sookie was right. Freyda is going after Texas."_

Pam grabbed the book from my hand and began franticallyflipping through it.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Eric had to have left a note or something," she responded as she held the book up shaking it in the hope that something would fall out, "otherwise, what possible use could this old book be?"

"I think it is Eric's way of letting us know that Freyda is planning to move against Texas," I speculated. "The question is what, if anything has been done about it?"

"What do you mean?" Pam asked.

"I mean," I explained, "has Eric talked to Stan Davis? Is he going to side with King Davis over Freyda? Are _we_ supposed to initiate contact with Stan? Does Eric already have a plan in motion? Has he included de Castro in this knowledge?" That was just a few of the questions buzzing in my brain.

"Bill!" Pam snapped at me, pulling me out of the whirlpool of my musings.

"We don't have much to go on," I said, "but we need to talk to Sookie. We need to let her know that the situation in Tulsa is going to be far more dangerous than any of us imagined. She needs to consider her actions carefully, and she will only do that if she knows the lay of the land. It's unfair and dangerous to keep her in the dark."

Pam was practically trembling with annoyance. "What can Sookie possibly do here, Bill?" she said nastily. "She'll be more of a nuisance than a help."

"Stop it, Pam," I warned. "I know that you are concerned about Eric, but Sookie is also. You cannot keep blaming her for something that is not her fault. She—"

"Eric compromised his position to protect Sookie. It is her fault he's stuck in Oklahoma," Pam growled. "I don't know when he quit putting himself first, but it needs to stop."

She was clearly bent on absolving everyone, but Sookie for Eric's predicament. De Castro was her superior, and thus off limits. Ocella was dead. Thus, in her eyes at least, Eric was a hapless victim of his ill advised love for Sookie. There was no one else left to blame or be the target for Pam's vitriol.

"Pam, did Eric ever talk to you about Texas?" I asked hoping to refocus her on the matters at hand.

"He just said that Joe Velasquez, Davis' lieutenant was running things while the King recovered." She paused thoughtfully, her brow wrinkling slightly. "When Sookie was doing all that talking the other night, that's what made me think that Freyda might do something about Texas," she admitted.

"So it was Sookie's questions and speculations that helped you put the pieces together, yes?" I asked.

Pam nodded; her face pinched and unhappy, ashamed almost.

"What did you think about Sookie's suggestion that Freyda probably would not try to move on de Castro at the wedding?" Pam's expression darkened as she realized the purpose for my recall of the previous night's conversation in her car. "I believe that it was Sookie who said that Freyda would wait until the wedding was over so that de Castro would walk into a trap upon his return to Nevada. Is that right?" I struggled to keep the sarcastic, falsely wondering tone out of my voice.

"Okay, I get it," Pam said sharply. "Sookie has ideas. We'll go see her." She glared at me. "Happy now?" she spat.

I ruthlessly suppressed the satisfied smile threatening to overtake my face. Rubbing Pam's nose in her unfairness would _not_ be a good idea. I glanced at my watch. Almost midnight. Sookie had worked the lunch shift today, so she was probably already asleep.

"We won't be able to see her tonight," I told Pam. "I'm sure she's asleep by now. I—"

"Call her," Pam demanded, interrupting me.

"Pam, I really think—"

"Call. Her," she demanded again stepping closer to me. Her face was a fearsome mask of dogged determination.

I heaved out a sigh. The two most present women in my life were driving me crazy with their single minded determination to 'rescue' Eric. In a momentary flash of annoyed self pity, I wondered if I didn't need rescuing from the two of them. I pulled out my phone and dialed Sookie's number.

"Hello," Sookie answered on the fourth ring. Her voice didn't sound as if she had been sleeping.

"Sookie, its Bill. Did I wake you?" I asked.

"No, but I was just on my way to bed," she said.

"Tell her it's about Eric," Pam whispered loudly in my left ear.

She was standing so close she seemed to be trying to defy the law of physics preventing two solid objects from occupying the same space at the same time. I took a step away from her, and she followed me; we were practically conjoined twins.

"Sookie, I saw Eric tonight." I heard the sharp intake of her breath. "He came to Fangtasia. There are some things you should probably hear." The sound of her quickened breathing was a hollow hiss in my ear.

"Is he alright?" she asked softly, sounding choked as if she was fighting back tears.

"Yes, he's fine. He looked wonderful in fact." _Damn_, I thought to myself. _That may give her the wrong impression._

"Oh," she said. It was a soft, dispirited response.

"I just meant that he is fully recovered from the injuries sustained during his punishment."

"Oh," Sookie said again, but this time her voice sounded a little more hopeful.

"Tell her we need to come over _tonight_," Pam hissed in my ear.

I whirled on Pam and glared at her. She rolled her eyes and backed up slightly holding up both hands in a mocking gesture of surrender.

"If it's not too late Pam and I would like to come over to see you tonight." Pausing, I waited for her response.

"It's really late, Bill. I'm pretty tired."

"Eric left us something and we think you might have some ideas about it." I hoped that Pam and Sookie could get through a conversation together without the potential for the outbreak of violence between the two of them.

"How long will it take for you to get here?" she asked.

"About thirty to forty minutes," I answered. "Are you sure it's not too late?" I asked again.

"It's late, but I wouldn't sleep now anyway," she said. "Ya'll come ahead." Her voice sounded weary, hopeful, and resigned all at the same time.

Pam and I left the clearing to make our way back to her car. The clouds had disappeared leaving behind a cool, crystal clear night sky that left me marveling at how close the constellations appeared. One had to only look at the stars to know the real meaning of eternity.

The ride to Sookie's was quiet as Pam and I tried to process the little information we had in an effort to make sense of it. Our vague notions surrounding the meaning of Eric's leaving of the Crockett book was still nagging me. I turned over everything I could recall about David Crockett and tried to make some connections to Eric's predicament and our place in it.

Pam pulled to a stop in front of Sookie's house. She'd left the light on the front porch and though the trip had taken about ten minutes longer than I'd quoted to Sookie, she had sounded so tired on the phone, I hoped that she was still awake. She was. The front door was opened for us before we got to the top of the steps.

"Ya'll have some trouble?" she asked uneasily. "I was starting to get worried." Her face had been scrubbed clean of all make-up. The pinched, worried look on her face made her look like a very anxious teenager. "Ya'll come in, it's cold out." She pushed open the screen door.

Pam stepped in ahead of me without speaking or even glancing at Sookie and moved quickly toward the living room. As I stepped in to follow her, Sookie gripped my forearm tightly, pulling me around to face her. Her eyes searched mine looking for some kind of clue for what was to come. I pried her rigid fingers off my arm and pulled her into a hug. She didn't pull away. Instead she wrapped her arms around my waist and whispered into my chest, "Please tell me he's okay." It was both a plea and a prayer.

"He's okay," I reassured her rubbing her back gently. "Come on; let's go see what we can figure out." She nodded and pulled out of my embrace.

Pam was waiting impatiently in the living room giving Sookie and me the 'hairy eyeball' as Sookie might term Pam's suspicious look. "About the time you two decided to join me," she said drily. She seemed to be looking more closely at me than at Sookie.

"Okay," Sookie said, "whatcha' got for me?" She took a seat on the old sofa and gestured to Pam and me to take our seats in the chairs flanking it on each end. "Oh, wait," she said suddenly as she started to rise from the sofa. "Do either of ya'll want a blood? I'll heat one for you." Her mannerly upbringing had apparently overridden her fatigue.

"No. Thanks," Pam deadpanned. Her voice was dismissive reminding me of the Pam _before_ she and Sookie had become friends: standoffish, judgmental, and superior.

Sookie stood in a half-crouch continuing to look at her for a moment. I couldn't see her eyes, but I could only imagine that they were filled with hurt.

"I'm fine," I said as Sookie straightened up and turned to me. "Let's talk so you can get to bed. You look tired."

Sookie sat down wearily on the sofa as Pam dug around in her carry-on sized handbag for the Crockett book. She pulled it out and handed it to Sookie.

Sookie turned the book over in her hands to look at the cover. "_"A__ Narrative of the Life of David Crockett, of the State of Tennessee, Written by Himself"_," she read aloud.

"First Bill, now you," Pam huffed out impatiently. "I _know_ the title."

"Pam…" I warned. Another angry, impatient tirade from Pam might well get one or both of us uninvited from Sookie's home.

Pam released an annoyed sigh, but closed her mouth and settled back in her seat. She crossed her legs, gripped the chair's armrests and glared at both of us.

"Sookie," I said gently, "Eric was at Fangtasia tonight." Sookie just nodded as she watched my face. "He resigned as Sheriff."

That news seemed to unsettle her greatly. She turned away from me to glance at Pam before focusing on the book she held tightly in both hands. Her thumbs were rubbing absently on the front cover.

"Pam, I'm sorry," Sookie said as she came out of her contemplative trance. "I know that was probably very hard for you."

Pam looked thunderstruck at Sookie's expression of sympathy. Then she looked stricken. She turned away from Sookie, swallowing convulsively as she worked to gain control over her emotions that had been dredged up by Sookie's sudden kindness.

All I could think is _'What a mess.'_ Pam was hurt and angry. Sookie was guilty and resigned. The only thing they shared was their loneliness and the loss of Eric.

"Was there anything else?" Sookie asked turning to me. She seemed to have forgotten about the book she still held in her hand.

"Eric negotiated with de Castro to name Pam as Sheriff of Area 5," I told her. "He also brought paperwork for Pam to manage his commercial assets and paperwork for me to manage his financial investments and real estate holdings."

Sookie just nodded numbly.

Her address in his list of rental properties would remain unspoken for the time being. I'd weighed the wisdom of telling her about Eric's inquiries but decided that at least for the time being to err on the side of caution. Hearing it might raise false hopes and cause more pain. Sookie didn't need any more pain.

Pam seemed to have gained control of herself. Her face wore its usual bland mask as she watched Sookie and me.

"Sookie," Pam said. "Eric left his briefcase behind and that book was the only thing in it."

"Eric has a briefcase?" Sookie said sounding astonished. It was such an improbable disconnect with her image of him that she seemed to have a hard time believing it.

"Focus, Sookie," Pam snapped. "It's not the briefcase that is important."

"Pam…" I said sharply. She just looked at me and huffed out a snort of exasperation.

Sookie looked at the book lying in her lap. "What does Davy Crockett have to do with any of this?" she asked. It had been the exact question that Pam had asked, but I wouldn't be teasing Sookie as I had Pam.

"Crockett was a hero of the Texas Revolution," I told her.

"I know that," she said, "he died at the Alamo. Jason read almost all of the Davy Crocket Western Series books when he was a kid. His cowboys and Indians phase. There were eight or nine of them in the series I think. I read some of them…" her voice trailed off as she seemed to be engrossed in deep thought.

My experience had taught me to respect her thinking time. Pam? Not so much. She shifted in her seat and opened her mouth. I supposed to hurry Sookie along. I caught Pam's eyes and shook my head sharply to urge her to remain silent.

"'_You can go to hell, I'm going to Texas'," _Sookie said suddenly. "Do you think he was trying to say something about Freyda taking over Texas with this?" she asked gesturing toward the book in her lap. "Is that what you think, Pam?" Her voice had brightened and her pulse rate accelerated as she contemplated Eric's clue.

"We think so," I confirmed. "But this is all we have to go on. There was no note or other form of communication in the book."

"Bill and I figured out that much by ourselves," Pam stated impatiently. "Put your brain in gear. You were 'on it' last night. What's the problem now?" Pam's tone was rudely sarcastic.

Sookie's head snapped around toward Pam. _Uh oh_, I thought to myself. I couldn't see her face, but from the sudden rigidity of her posture, the sharp intake of breath, and the jump in her pulse rate, I was glad that it wasn't me Sookie was staring down. I watched Pam carefully readying myself to intervene. I'd been doing a lot of that lately.

"I've had just about enough of your temper," Sookie said quietly. Her voice was calm, but there was danger in her tone. I recalled my mother sounding like that just before I got the strap taken to me.

"I get that you're mad about what happened to Eric and I get that you think that I'm at fault. I hate like anything that Eric is in this mess at all and I really, _really_ hate that he's in it at least partially because of me." She paused and drew in a deep breath. At no time had she raised her voice; her tone was almost conversational.

"I would give _anything_ for it not to be this way," she said, "but I'm not going to take your mouth any longer. You keep a civil tongue in your head while you're in my home or you'll find yourself out in the yard." She paused once more. "Do you understand me?"

Pam's face contorted into an angry mask. She glanced at me to gauge my reaction. I kept my expression carefully neutral sure that any hint of gloating on my part would be disastrous. She opened her mouth to lay into Sookie. Her fangs had snapped down and were on full display. I felt my body coil in readiness should Pam decide to follow her instincts.

"Choose your next words carefully, Pam," Sookie warned. "I meant what I said." Her voice carried that same quiet, self-assured threat that I had often heard in Eric's voice. Sookie might have been sitting there in a fluffy pink bathrobe, pajamas, and slippers, but I was reminded for the second time just how much Sookie had begun to take on some of Eric's characteristics. If Sookie had any fear of a Vampire who could move so fast to kill her that she would be dead before she hit the floor, she didn't show it.

I don't know if Pam recognized something of Eric in Sookie's words and tone, or if she just decided to back off on her own, but just as suddenly as her fangs had snapped down, they retracted. Pam pasted on a smile. After a beat or two she relaxed and sat back in her chair moving her hands off of the arms rests to lie folded in her lap. The smile and ladylike posture might not have been totally genuine, but it seemed to lessen the thrumming tension between the two women. I continued to watch them as my fangs pressed painfully into my gums. I was not convinced the crisis had passed.

Sookie's posture relaxed and she turned to sit back on the sofa tucking her legs underneath her. She remained silent seeming to gather herself and coming down from the adrenaline rush of her confrontation with Pam.

"I had to do a paper in my senior English class," Sookie recounted, "where we had to take a real person from history and compare them to the fictional version of themselves. I picked Davy Crocket, because we still had all those books that Jason read."

Pam began to fidget in her seat.

I feared another outburst.

Sookie stilled her with a brief glance.

"I remember Davy Crocket set a new path for himself after he lost some election. That's what that quote is about." She glanced at me. Paused. I could see her thoughts forming behind her blue eyes. "He was supposed to marry someone, but it was called off. _She_ called it off. A year later he married somebody else."

"Do you have a point, Sookie?" Pam asked sweetly. I had to bite my tongue to keep the smirking grin begging to take up residence on my face at bay. If I didn't know better, I would swear that Pam had become a bit wary of Sookie.

"Well," Sookie said speculatively, "I think the quote makes it pretty obvious." I agreed with her. "If Eric is trying to tell us something then I think it would be that Texas is under threat. Whether it's from de Castro or Freyda I don't know, but since he's been spending most his time lately in her camp, I think it's likely to be coming from her." Sookie was quiet as she pondered the rest of the 'evidence.'

"Bill came up with the same idea," Pam offered, her voice still pleasant; she was making an effort.

"Of course most people know about Crockett from the Alamo," I interjected. "It was a terrible battle. The Texian forces were trapped in the Alamo and were hugely outnumbered by the Mexican forces. Crockett was killed along with the other Alamo defenders."

"That could mean that he expects Freyda to pull something at the wedding. Stan Davis would be "trapped' and outnumbered big time," Sookie surmised. She fisted her right hand and brought her thumb to her lips, rubbing it back and forth lightly. Her eyes seemed to focus on some internal image.

"If Eric was really trying to send a message," she mused, "there could be something in Crockett getting stood up, almost at the altar. Of course he was a bit of a tomcat," she conceded, "so she may have just decided to cut her losses."

I'd studied the political and military aspects of Crockett's life and career, but I'd never dwelled on the personal aspects. I wondered if Sookie recalled Crockett's 'tomcat' tendencies because of the similarities to her own brother. Sookie's deep thinking 'tell' manifested itself: she rested her chin on her fisted right hand and her eyes rolled up to study the ceiling.

"It could all mean anything though," she said thoughtfully. "Freyda might not intend on marrying Eric at all." She paused; pursed her lips. "This so-called wedding – whatever it's called—might just be a decoy. Get everyone to look in one direction." She sighed; her shoulders dropping, "It also could just mean nothing."

"Pam, do you think Eric's talked to Stan Davis," Sookie asked "Maybe this is just his way of letting _you_ know what's going on,"

"Highly doubtful," she replied. "Every step he takes is dogged by one or more of Freyda's goons. I haven't had a moment alone with him since he went to Vegas to account for Madden's ending. He came back with guards and hasn't been without them since."

"So which one of you is going to call Stan Davis?" Sookie asked. Pam and I turned to look at her. "Eric wouldn't have gone to all this trouble if he didn't mean for Stan to know what to expect in Oklahoma." Her head nodded back and forth between Pam and me as she waited for an answer.

Pam caught my eye and cocked her eyebrow. The ball was clearly in my court to deal with Sookie's question.

"As Sheriff, Pam is the ranking officer between the two of us," I said. "However, I am concerned that we have nothing solid on which to base our concerns."

"We'll probably never have that, Bill," Sookie said. "Eric likes Stan. You have to let him know. If he decides to blow it off, then you did the best you could." Again, her head bobbed back and forth taking in both Pam and me, willing us to see her logic and act upon it.

"If I call Stan Davis it could mean real problems for Eric," Pam explained. I was grateful that she had toned down her bitter and accusing tone with Sookie.

"What kind of problems?" Sookie demanded, her tone harsh with concern. The recently achieved civility was temporarily on hold. Hopefully.

"Davis is going to want to know how we got our information," Pam explained reasonably. "If we tell him that it came from Eric it could paint him as a traitor to both Freyda and de Castro. Eric is strong and smart, but right now he is vulnerable. If Freyda is planning to move on Texas and she gets wind of what he has done, then she will kill him. If it gets to de Castro, same result. Are you willing to put Eric _and yourself_ in jeopardy to save Stan Davis?" Pam watched Sookie trying to get some kind of read on her; she had been the wildcard in more than one adventure over that last three years.

Sookie sat quietly considering Pam's words, and if I had to guess, she was remembering her first encounter with Stan Davis in Dallas. He had frightened her, but she had still managed to alert him to a spy in his nest, lead the effort to recover his brother Farrell, and alert the Vampires gathered in his nest of an impending bombing attack from FOTS extremists. She had earned his respect. What I was about to suggest made me feel like a coward, but it seemed the most reasonable option to alert Stan Davis and reduce the danger to Eric.

"Sookie," I called her name gently. She looked up at me. Her eyes were filled with indecision. She was torn between honoring Eric's efforts and protecting him from harm on behalf of a Vampire King who meant nothing to her personally. "Would _you_ be willing to talk to Stan Davis?"

She slid forward twisting around on the sofa cushions to look at me. Her eyes were wide with fear and her mouth open in shock.

"What! How would I… He wouldn't…, Bill!" she sputtered. She took a deep breath trying to calm herself. "What would I say about where the information came from? What makes you think he is going to listen to a human?" She continued to face me with anxiety flooding her face.

"It makes sense, Sookie," Pam said quietly. "If I call King Davis he will want to know where I got the information and if I have told de Castro; there is no easy answer to that question that won't leave him suspicious. There is no love lost between him and de Castro. He'll wonder why an officer of de Castro's kingdom would take the trouble to warn him." She paused to look intently at Sookie. "Honestly, I think Stan would be _less_ suspicious with you than he would be with me or Bill. You really are the best choice for this."

"What would I say to him? I wouldn't know how to start the conversation." Her voice was squeaky with panic. "I don't even know how to contact him," she finished plaintively.

"You will just lead him through the same thought processes you did with us in the car last night," Pam explained calmly. "Stan is very smart. He'll catch on before we did."

"Do I tell him about the book?" Even though she was still very afraid, Sookie was clearly beginning to see the logic of the suggestion to call Davis.

"That is more problematic," I said. "He will want to know where the book came from if you mention it. How you got it. He has to know that Eric has been almost exclusively in Oklahoma." Each of us retreated into our thoughts to work through this critical detail.

"Maybe Eric could have mailed it?" Sookie proposed. "I have to have some _reason_ to call Stan Davis. I can't tell him it just came to me out of the blue."

"I think you will have to mention it," Pam observed. "It will be the kind of verification that Stan would expect."

Sookie stood suddenly. She was clearly agitated as she began to pace the room wringing her hands. After three courses in front of the fire place, she stopped and turned to look at Pam and me.

"Will this help Eric or will this only help Stan Davis? I know Eric likes Stan and wants to help him, but there has to be some payoff for Eric." She looked determined, fixing both of us with a hard look. "That's the only way I will do this."

"I don't know," I said honestly, "but if Freyda moves on Stan Davis and he is able to resist successfully because you alerted him with Eric's information he will owe both of you."

"Favors and indebtedness are a big deal in our world, Sookie." Pam added. "Stan's support could be very useful in freeing him from Oklahoma's grasp or…_other_ things that Eric might want to do."

"How could he help him get away from Oklahoma and what _other _things?" It was patently clear that Sookie wanted tangible results benefitting Eric if she was going to be our go-between with a Vampire King.

Pam spoke up first. "If Freyda moves on Stan and he holds her off, then he would expect recompense. Assuming he doesn't kill her, he could go before the Amun Clan Council and charge her with trying to destabilize the clan. If he does kill her, which is more likely, then Oklahoma would become his."

"How would that help Eric?" Sookie insisted. "Freyda gets her comeuppance and Davis gets money or whatever." Her voice carried a rising note of hysteria. "What does Eric get?"

"If Freyda lives," I explained, "Eric could claim that the contract between Ocella and Freyda was made under false pretenses and that he should be released from its obligations." The look of hope in Sookie's eyes was almost painful for me to see. "However, a lot depends on _**when**_ Stan would challenge her. If it is before Eric is pledged to Freyda , then Oklahoma will go to Stan, but—"

"If it's after the pledging," Sookie interrupted, "or after the wedding, or whatever you call this stupid thing, what then?"

"Well, then Eric would be duty bound by his fealty oath to fight with Freyda against Stan," I answered. I watched the hope drain out of Sookie's eyes.

"If Stan takes Oklahoma, is Eric duty bound to him or de Castro?" Sookie asked.

"Neither," Pam answered quickly. "Eric would essentially be a free agent. He would no longer be under de Castro's thumb since he resigned as Sheriff." Pam hesitated before continuing. "Bill is right about the timing issue, Sookie. If Eric is pledged to Freyda and survives the battle, then Stan would decide his fate."

Sookie looked like she might be ill and there wasn't much I could offer by way of reassurance.

"The 'what ifs' may be moot," I said. "There is no guarantee that Freyda will try anything immediately. It _could be _next week in Tulsa, or it could be next month, next year, or ten years from now."

Sookie came back to sit on the sofa worrying her bottom lip as she considered all of the possibilities.

"So, if I call Stan Davis, I have to find a way to let him know that Freyda is drawing a bead on him, and he has to do something about it before the…_pledging_… if Eric is to get out of this without having to side with Freyda." Her heart was racing. "And all this is coming from a human." Her summary was accurate and horrifying all at the same time.

Neither Pam nor I felt the need to say anything. Sookie would have to decide on her own. She looked between the two of us not really seeing either of us as she weighed her fear for Eric against her fear of calling a Vampire King who had terrified her in Dallas.

Eric won.

Sookie looked at Pam and asked, "Do you have Stan Davis' number?"

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked.

"I don't know that it's really a choice," she replied. "Eric wants Stan Davis to know, and if he handles it right, it might get Eric out from under Oklahoma." Deep lines of worry etched her face, but her tone was resolute. "Make the call, Pam," Sookie instructed. "Just tell me who I need to ask for."

Wordlessly, Pam reached into her handbag and pulled out two cell phones. One was her personal cell phone: an iPhone in a pink case, but the other looked like a cheap pay-as-you go flip phone from Wal-Mart.

"When the phone is answered, ask for Isabel Beaumont," Pam said. "She's Stan's new lieutenant." Pam scrolled through her contacts in her personal phone. Finding what she wanted, she opened the pay-as-you-go phone and began punching in numbers. "Tell her that you need to speak to King Davis."

The house was silent save for the beat of Sookie's heart, the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, and the faint ringing sound on Pam's throw-down phone.

"Davis residence." The voice said on the other end of the line. Pam thrust the phone at Sookie who took it with trembling hands. She had a right to be nervous.

Stan might be King, but he still maintained his home in the Dallas old-money neighborhood of Highland Park even after the FOTS bombing. He was easily one of the most frightening Vampires I'd ever known, but he was greatly respected by his resident Vampires, as well as, his fellow monarchs. Stan demanded obedience, but he was also loyal to his constituents.

"Isabel Beaumont, please," Sookie requested. Her voice wavered and was higher pitched than normal.

"One moment," said the disembodied voice. I was surprised at the 'waiting' music that played as Sookie held the line. It was some country western song by the sound of the steel guitars. How ordinary.

Pam's right foot began to jiggle slightly at the end of her crossed leg in a small show of nerves by the newly appointed Sheriff. Understandable. If our suppositions were wrong or Sookie was unable to handle this, it could create a potentially very embarrassing, if not deadly, confrontation between Texas and Oklahoma. If our actions were discovered by de Castro, it would quite likely be viewed as treason.

The waiting music stopped and the line came to life. "This is Isabel Beaumont." Her voice was brisk and businesslike.

"Umm, Miss Beaumont, this is Sookie Stackhouse," she said respectfully. "Do you remember me?" Her voice ended with a pinched squeak.

"Hello, Miss Stackhouse," she greeted. "Yes, I remember you. Is there something I can do for you? Her tone was curious, but cold. Isabel was by nature reserved; more so now after her punishment at Stan Davis' hands. She had been badly burned by her association with a human. Hugo Ayers. He'd been the spy in Stan Davis's nest and the one to lead Sookie into a trap at the Fellowship of the Sun.

"Would it be possible for me to speak with King Davis?" Now that the initial contact had been made, Sookie sounded a little more like herself.

"May I ask why?" Her question showed the suspicion natural to all Vampires.

"If you don't mind," Sookie said respectfully, "I would prefer that King Davis make the decision of who should know what I have to share." Pam nodded approvingly at Sookie's comment.

"I see," Isabel said. "Hold a moment while I see if he is available."

Another song was playing this time, and it was one I didn't know. "'Death is Not the End,'" Sookie said. "Kylie Minogue." Apparently I must have looked confused. I still was. I'd never heard of Kylie Minogue. No matter; the song was dreadful, but humorously appropriate

"Miss Stackhouse." Sookie startled slightly when Stan Davis came on the line.

"Mr. Davis," Sookie replied. Her nerves were showing again as she worked to suppress a giggle. She'd always made fun of the brief, taciturn greetings between Vampires, and now she found herself doing the same thing. Her firmly held democratic beliefs usually kept her from addressing our monarchs by their royal titles.

"Was there something specific you wished to discuss with me," the King prompted, "or is this a social call?"

Now that the floor was open for Sookie to reveal our concerns and theories, she seemed tongue tied. She continued to hesitate as if she didn't know how to begin. I moved to sit next to her on the sofa and put my hand on her knee. She looked at me with panic in her eyes. I gave her knee a quick squeeze and then gave a sharp nod in the direction of the phone in her hand.

"Mr. Davis," Sookie said a little too loudly, "I'm worried that you may have some trouble with holding onto Texas if you go to Oklahoma." The other side of the phone line was quiet as if the connection had been lost.

"Explain," Davis said after a moment. It was a terse command.

"It's kind of a long story, so I need you to be patient with me. Okay?" Sookie said.

"My time is yours, Miss Stackhouse. Proceed." She had gained his full attention. In the broadest possible terms, Sookie proceeded to tell King Davis that Eric had been concerned about Texas while Stan was recovering from his injuries in Rhodes. She mentioned that, according to Eric, his lieutenant had struggled to maintain the kingdom. It was all information that only Eric was likely to have given to her.

"You're feeling better now, aren't you, Mr. Davis?" Sookie asked, interrupting her narrative. Pam shook her head and rolled her eyes at Sookie's display of fine Southern manners.

"Yes, I'm fine, Miss Stackhouse. Now please continue." His tone was cordial, but carried undertones of impatience.

"You know that Eric is in Oklahoma, right?" Sookie asked.

"I am aware," the King responded.

"Well," Sookie continued, "I got kind of an unusual package the other day. It's got me a little worried." Sookie's innocent, almost girlish tone was perfect. It would put Stan in the position of putting the puzzle together himself. I smiled. I was proud of Sookie. She might have been nervous, but she was playing Stan Davis, a Vampire King, like a fine instrument. Pam's mocking expression had changed to a surprised one. She saw it too.

"What was in the package, Miss Stackhouse?" the King prompted trying not sound annoyed at Sookie's protracted pause. "Who sent it?"

"It was a book about Davy Crockett. Eric sent it," Sookie replied, "and Mr. Davis would you mind just calling me Sookie?"

"Of course, Sookie. Why don't you just tell me what has you worried?" His patience was wearing thin. Pam's was too as she waggled her hand at Sookie in a 'hurry up' motion.

"Okay," she agreed as she eyed Pam with a cocked eyebrow. "I thought it was kind of weird that he would send me a book on Davy Crockett. I mean I like history and all, but I couldn't quite figure out why Eric would send this one. Then I got to remembering that Crockett was a hero of the Alamo. You know that the Texans were really outnumbered there…" She trailed off hoping he understood the direction of her thinking.

"I am knowledgeable about Texas history. What makes you think that the Texans being outnumbered at the Alamo has anything to do with my kingdom?" Stan still hadn't made the connection. Sookie was going to have to prompt him a little more.

"Eric quoted Crockett's famous saying, _"You can go to hell, I'm going to Texas." _ Mr. Davis, I think Eric is worried that you are going to be outnumbered in Tulsa. You're going to the wedding aren't you?" Her words had come out in a rush as if she was afraid.

Stan Davis was quiet on the other end of the line. Sookie fidgeted nervously. Pam slid forward anxiously in her seat. I strained to hear any noise on the other end of the line.

Sookie jumped as the King's voice came across the line. "You know that Crockett was jilted just days before his wedding, don't you Sookie?"

"Umm, yes, sir. I did," she said cautiously.

"You wouldn't be calling me to try to keep Eric from his pledge to Queen Freyda, would you?" His voice was terrifying in its silkiness.

"No, sir. I am aware that Eric's maker made that contract and that he felt like he had to honor it." Her eyes were closed as she spoke and her hand was clenched in her lap. "I don't like it, but I understand what he had to do." She had begun to tremble.

Pam was focused on the fireplace mantel, probably trying to figure out how long it would take Davis to contact de Castro about Sookie's efforts to sabotage the pledging ceremony. If he did, de Castro would hold Pam responsible and she would probably serve the shortest term as Sheriff on record. My head would be on the block right along with hers.

"Then explain to me how you came to this conclusion, Miss Stackhouse." The formality was back. Not a good sign.

"Mr. Davis, Eric has liked you ever since Dallas. You could have done anything that you wanted to with Isabel and Hugo Ayers, but you honored your pledge to me that they wouldn't be killed. Eric believes in honor and loyalty. He sees you as an honorable man and an honorable King." She paused. "He would hate to see you lose your kingdom," she let out a quiet, shaky breath, "and so would I."

Silence on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Davis," Sookie tentatively began, "Eric has been in Oklahoma for several weeks now, and I know from Bill that he is pretty much under lock and key." Her words came out hurriedly. "I'm pretty sure he took a big risk to send this book to me." Her tone begged him to believe her. "He wouldn't have done it if he wasn't pretty sure something was up."

"Who am I going to be outnumbered by, Sookie." It seemed, for whatever reason the King had chosen to believe her…for the moment.

Sookie closed her eyes and let out the breath she had been holding before answering. "I'm not sure, your Majesty. " I took note of her formal address.

"Give me your best guess."

"My best guess is Oklahoma," Sookie cringed as she said it.

"What led you to that conclusion?" The king asked. He was being extraordinarily patient.

Pam pulled an envelope out of her purse and began scribbling furiously. When she finished she held it up so that Sookie could see it. It said, _'Tell him what you think!'_

Sookie's eyes darted to mine. I gave her an encouraging smile and nodded my head in agreement with Pam. As Sookie was known to say, it was time to 'go big or go home.'

"Your majesty, you understand that this is just me doing my own thinking, right? I've already told you everything that Eric and I talked about." Her voice was frantic. "This is just _me_ doing my own thinking…I could really be wrong." She waited to see if Davis would stop her. He didn't.

"You see, Eric told me before that Oklahoma was interested in taking back Louisiana and Arkansas from King de Castro to kinda' put Amun back together again," she said. "I first thought she might try something at the wedding, but then decided that that might be too big an audience. She couldn't be sure who would side with her." Sookie paused to gather her thoughts logically. "She's got a bunch of Vampires in her state. It would make sense for her to send some of them into Nevada, Louisiana, and Arkansas so that de Castro and his Sheriffs would go back to states that were already captured." She held her breath and waited for Davis' response.

"Very plausible, Sookie, and while I now know why _you_ made this phone call rather than Sheriff Ravenscroft, I still I don't see how that affects Texas."

"Well….umm…you've kind of been out of commission," she answered hesitantly. Her face was scrunched up on one side in a pained grimace. She was afraid of angering the King by reminding him of his recent disabilities.

"Ahh," the King said, 'you think she will try to take Texas because she thinks I am still weak. Don't you think she would be biting off more than she could chew to try to take over four states at the same time?"

"Yes, sir, I do." she agreed. "Do you know the saying, 'go big or go home'?" I grinned at the coincidence. "She'll have home field advantage in Tulsa."

"I am familiar with it," the King said. "So you think Freyda is 'going big'?"

"Yes, sir," Sookie answered. "She would be a pretty solid player in Amun with four states, plus one in Narayana."

"With Eric as her enforcer…" Davis' voice trailed off. It was more a question than a statement.

Sookie remained silent; a look of suffering on her face.

"Sookie?" King Davis prompted.

"Eric didn't want to go to Oklahoma," she said quietly.

"I am aware," responded King Davis, sounding a little sympathetic.

Silence.

I glanced at Pam to gauge her reaction to the conversation between Sookie and Stan Davis. She looked back with an arched eyebrow and a small shrug of her shoulders. I was in awe of Sookie's courage.

"Sookie, is there anything else I should know?" the King asked.

"No, sir," she answered. "But you should maybe think about stayin' home." Sookie sounded so tired.

"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary," the King said. "Will I see you there?"

"Yes, sir, I'll be there."

"And not too happy about it I would imagine," the King speculated.

"No, sir."

"By de Castro's command?" Davis asked.

"Yes, sir." Sookie's face had clouded up; her voice was a choked whisper.

"Well, then, Sookie, I am going to ask a favor of you; actually, two favors, if I might."

_This ought to be interesting,_ I thought to myself.

"Yes, sir."

"First, I would like you to put me on your dance card," he said. His voice sounded almost gentle.

"It would be my pleasure, your Majesty." Sookie managed a weak smile as she answered. "The second favor?" she prompted.

"Keep your head down and your eyes open."

Sookie's eyes grew wide. "Yes, sir, I'll do my best."

"One more favor, Sookie," the King asked.

"Sure," she readily replied.

"Hold the phone away from your ear a bit, would you?"

"Okay," Sookie said looking puzzled as she moved the phone a few inches away from her ear. "I'm holding it away." She'd raised her voice a bit.

"Sheriff Ravenscroft and Mr. Compton," the King called in a raised voice. "I need the two of you to keep an eye on Miss Stackhouse. I owe her several favors. Can I count on the two of you?" Sookie had clapped her hand over her mouth; her eyes were huge as she listened to the King.

I looked at Pam. Her eyes were as big as Sookie's. I could only imagine what look I had on my face. Shock, I'm sure. Not knowing what to do, I looked at Pam again. She shrugged her shoulders and gave me the high eyebrow.

"Absolutely, Majesty." We almost simultaneously responded.

* * *

><p>ANPS: One thousand apologies on not getting to Tulsa. I know you are anxiously awaiting the plane trip and the wedding, but poor Stan Davis had to be brought into the loop. Chapter 18 in being written and our intrepid trio of Sookie, Bill and Pam _will_ be on that plane. Please stick with me and I will do my best to not disappoint you. Thanks so much for reading. _Tabby_


	18. Chapter 18: Bite

AN: I apologize for the length of time between updates, but cannot promise speedier updates as we move through the holiday season. You do have my promise that this story will not be abandoned. Thanks for your patience.

Thank you so much for all of your kind comments and reviews. I am not being disingenuous when I say that I am surprised to have received such positive feedback in a story that features Bill so prominently. In fact, **madamegreatness**, the thoughts you expressed in your very kind and generous review of chapter 17 gave Pam the words she needed for a very important conversation in this chapter. You'll know it when you see it, **MG.**Thank you!

**Joyindenver,** my redoubtable beta makes this a much better story for all of you to read. **Purple****Death** is her in-progress Vampire murder mystery. Check it out; you won't be sorry.

Charlaine Harris owns all the kids. They're just in temporary foster care with me. Thanks Ms. Harris.

**Previously…**

"_Sheriff Ravenscroft and Mr. Compton," the King called in a raised voice. "I need the two of you to keep an eye on Miss Stackhouse. I owe her several favors. Can I count on the two of you?" Sookie had clapped her hand over her mouth; her eyes were huge as she listened to the King._

_I looked at Pam. Her eyes were as big as Sookie's. I could only imagine what look I had on my face. Shock, I'm sure. Not knowing what to do, I looked at Pam again. She shrugged her shoulders and gave me the high eyebrow._

"_Absolutely, Majesty." We almost simultaneously responded._

Sookie continued her white-knuckled grip on the phone long after Stan Davis hung up. Silence dominated the room as all three of us tried to process what just happened.

"Did we just screw ourselves?" Pam asked in a vacant tone. Her face still carried the look of wide-eyed shock.

Sookie swung her anxious gaze in my direction.

"I have no idea." And I _really_ didn't. "Either he is with us or he's already on the phone to de Castro."

"Nothing to be done about it now, I suppose," Sookie said heavily. "At least he knows. I'm sure that is what Eric wanted."

Only time would tell.

"I hope you're right, Sookie," Pam allowed. If some of de Castro's or Freyda's thugs show up at Fangtasia then we'll know we guessed wrong.

"It's late," I said looking at Pam. "Sookie needs to get to bed."

Pam nodded and took the phone from Sookie to drop into her purse along with the Crockett book and her personal phone. Her careful, unhurried movements made it appear that she was reluctant to leave. Curious.

"Ready, Pam?" I prompted.

"Give us a minute." Pam's eyes slid in Sookie's direction.

I hesitated, carefully testing the atmosphere in the room. Pam's normal tone of voice and posture seemed less aggressive than they had at any time in the last several days. It was after three AM and Sookie's yawns told their own story: she needed to get to bed.

"I'll wait in the car." I hesitated another moment looking between the two of them. Pam had remained seated in the chair wearing her usual bland expression, and Sookie was looking back and forth between the two of us unclear about what was going on. She didn't appear to be anxious or concerned, so I took that as a sign that I could leave them alone.

"Bill," Sookie called as I turned toward the door. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked half turning to look at her.

"Everything," she responded. Her exhausted smile spoke not only of her physical fatigue, but also of the emotional strain of trying to keep her head above water in our world.

I nodded a smile back at her and turned toward the door. Heeding the counsel of prudence, I decided to wait on the porch a few minutes to make sure that all remained well between them. I'd been on the porch for about a minute before I heard Pam begin to speak.

"You were very brave," Pam told Sookie.

"I was scared spitless," Sookie replied.

"I know, but you did well in spite of it."

Silence.

"You were only two-thirds right, you know," Pam said breaking the silence.

_What__was__she__talking__about?_ I could think of a half dozen things that Sookie had been right about just tonight, let alone over the three years I had known her. I wished I could see her face; I was sure it registered surprise. Pam had seldom been one to concede a point in any situation.

"What are you talking about?" Sookie yawned.

"You said that I was taking out my anger at you on Bill. That's only two-thirds right."

"Okay, Pam," Sookie said wearily, "I'll bite. What's the other third?"

"Not what," Pam said enigmatically, "who."

"I'm really tired, Pam." Sookie sighed. She was understandably frustrated. "Can you just tell me?"

"I'm beyond furious with Eric." Pam tone was flat and unemotional. "I don't think that furious is a good enough word actually. Livid might be better. That's it," Pam said with finality. "I'm _livid_ at Eric."

"You want to tell me why?" Sookie prompted.

"It will probably hurt your feelings," Pam cautioned matter-of-factly.

"Go for it," Sookie retorted. Her tone of resignation had returned.

I felt myself beginning to tense up. There was nothing in either Pam's or Sookie's tone that spoke of impending physical violence, but something about Pam's words and the deadly calm with which they were delivered made it feel as if they were poised on the edge of a high cliff. One false step and neither they nor their relationship would ever be the same again.

"Eric has spit on everything he ever taught me about survival by being involved with you," Pam continued.

Hearing her harsh statement delivered in such a coldly bland tone told me that there was no way that she could understand how devastating that would be to Sookie, or maybe she just didn't care. Either way I was furious with Pam.

"Pam, I am not going to take another dressing down from you," Sookie stated firmly. "I thought I made that clear."

"It's not," Pam agreed, "and you did."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Either speak your piece or get out. I don't have the patience or energy for _cryptic_." Sookie's sharp tone and coarse language told me that the knot she'd tied in the end of her rope to hold on was becoming badly frayed.

"I want to kick Eric's ass for putting me…and you…in this position." There was a pause. "I have lived my entire existence by Eric's example: humans are temporary, you don't get attached. He'd proved the truth of it again and again until he met you."

"Pam you _know_I resisted him for a really long time, right?"

"Yes," she conceded, "but then you quit resisting. There were times when it made me sick to see the two of you together." She paused. "You made him happy, Sookie, and I eventually learned to be glad about it."

"So what is your point?" Sookie asked. "You're gonna' have'ta help me here." Sookie was so tired that she had almost begun to slur her words.

"When I saw how happy you made him…" Pam paused without finishing her sentence. Finally, she continued, "_**I**_wanted that too." Another pause. "I had it with Miriam…" Pam's pained voiced trailed off. "I loved her," she said finally. There was clearly detectable heartbreak in her voice.

"Oh, Pam," was Sookie's only response. Her voiced sounded choked and tearful.

"But then Madden fucked it up." Pam said more briskly. "Just like Ocella and Freyda fucked it up for you and Eric."

Sookie said nothing.

"I don't know how all of this is going to work out," Pam continued, "but I do know one thing: humans can't survive in our world. It killed Miriam and it will kill you."

"I have to try to help Eric," Sookie insisted.

"I know," Pam conceded, "but even if Eric manages to get out from under Freyda, things won't go back to what they were. You need to watch yourself, Sookie."

"What you mean?" Sookie asked hesitantly. I think she might have been afraid of the answer.

"I mean protect yourself…in _all_ways. Think carefully of who you want in your life and what you want that life to be. Decide what you can tolerate and what you cannot." I heard Pam pull in a deep breath. "You're mortal, Sookie. You really don't have much time to make the wrong choices."

The sad fatalism in her tone caused a curious tightness in my chest. I had not realized how much Pam had been affected by her human's death. As Vampires we get accustomed to loss, but this one was obviously still very fresh for her. The loss of Eric, her anchor, had only compounded it.

I pulled out of my reverie when I heard the jingling rattle of Pam's car keys and the sound of her and Sookie's footsteps as they approached the front door. I hurriedly leapt off the porch and was inside Pam's car before the front door opened. Though I felt slightly guilty for my eavesdropping, it made me understand so much more about Pam's reactions to Eric's situation.

The door to Sookie's home opened and I saw the two women standing silhouetted by the warm glow of the interior lights. They were still talking, but from my vantage point their conversation was indistinct. Sookie reached up to place her hand lightly on Pam's arm. Pam looked at it and then very hesitantly and very briefly covered Sookie's hand with her own. It was a small gesture that spoke volumes: they cared about one another despite the animosity that had passed between them in recent days.

Sookie clutched her robe around herself more tightly in the open doorway as she watched Pam descend the stairs. She continued watching as Pam got into the car, put her seatbelt on, and began to turn around on the gravel drive. Her single wave as we completed the turn around and started down the drive could have been a goodbye to us or to any number of things that were too numerous and too painful to count.

We'd just entered the on-ramp on 1-20 toward Shreveport when Pam glanced in my direction. "You need to talk to Sookie. She's hell bent on trying to do something to help Eric," Pam said grimly. "Talk her out of it."

"I know that she feels that she needs to try to help Eric," I replied, "but I haven't been able to get anything out of her." My frustration was clearly evident.

"She is going to get herself killed or worse yet, get in Eric's way." She looked away from the road at me.

I noted the order of her concerns. Pam's facial expression and tone conveyed Sookie's purported lack of importance to her, but my overheard conversation refuted that. Conceding that Eric was at the top of her list of concerns, Sookie was still pretty high up on the list of those she cared about.

"'_In__Eric__'__s_ _way__'"_…? I prompted. I wondered if Pam knew more than she'd been willing to reveal.

"I don't have any specifics. I told you…" She paused as if trying to decide how much she actually wanted to tell me. "I have a bad feeling about this thing in Tulsa." Another pause. "I just don't know how much this business with Stan Davis changes anything." She was thinking out loud as she processed what little information she had with her intimate knowledge of Eric's mindset and tactics.

"It would be much more helpful if you just tell me what you think Eric is up to," I said. I had a good idea of my own, but she knew Eric better than I did. Her suppositions would be far better than mine when it came to his intentions.

"I think Eric might have decided to throw his lot in with Freyda to take de Castro out."

_No__real__surprise__there_, I thought to myself. But de Castro is no fool, and he would have a backup plan if he suspected Eric of double dealing. I could only imagine what that plan might look like and felt certain Sookie would be at the heart of it.

"I think he has had all he is going to take of de Castro's fuckery and double dealing," she continued. "I'm fairly sure he plans to help Freyda take him out," she said again. It was almost as if she was trying the idea out to validate its possibility.

"I'm not sure I agree with Sookie about Freyda waiting to let de Castro go back to Nevada and into a trap," she said speculatively. "Too many variables. She's too careful for that."

"What makes you think Sookie will try something in Tulsa?" I asked to bring her back to the object of my worry.

"The clothes she insisted on buying the other night were not her _usual_style," Pam said.

_Wonderful,_ I thought. _I__get__to__interpret__a__woman__'__s__clothing__choices__as__a__clue__to__the__mayhem__that__might__be__Tulsa._ I let my head drop back to the headrest and closed my eyes.

"Do you want to give me a hint?" I asked trying to suppress my irritation. "It's only a fifty minute drive to Shreveport and we are more than half way there."

"Let's just say that there will be very little of Sookie's generous assets left to the imagination." There was a lustful leer in Pam's tone. "She needs to dial it back. Freyda won't take it kindly if Sookie draws too much attention to herself."

I recalled Sookie's declaration to 'show Freyda up at her own wedding.' I'd played it off to Sookie's distress. Now I worried that Pam was correct: any obvious attempt on Sookie's part to attract attention from Freyda carried the potential for disaster.

"I can't even begin to know how to talk to Sookie about her wardrobe choices, but I'll see what I can do," I said wearily. My only hope lay in the fact that while Sookie might be headstrong, she wasn't stupid. Perhaps Davis's counsel to 'keep her head down and her eyes open' would be enough influence to get her to listen to me.

Pam pulled into the Fangtasia parking lot and slowed to a stop next to my car. She killed the engine, but made no move to get out. The parking lot was empty as the club was closed and locked for the night. I opened the car door, but Pam laid a delaying hand on my arm.

I looked back at her questioningly. When she turned to face me, I was taken aback by the raw emotion on her face.

"I have been with Eric for over a hundred years," she whispered. It was almost as if she was talking to herself. "I don't know what I'm doing here, Bill."

Her bland mask of 'Vampires first' superiority had dropped away and the nineteen year old girl she had been was sitting in front of me. Her eyes were closed and her throat worked convulsively as she struggled to bring her emotions under control, willing herself not to cry in front of me. I turned to look out of the passenger window feeling the sudden need to spare her embarrassment at my scrutiny. I was sure that Eric was the only one to have ever seen her so vulnerable. The small clicking sounds of the cooling engine were the only sound in the car.

"Get out, Bill," Pam said suddenly, her voice once again jaded and caustic. As quickly as her mask had dropped it was back on again. "You may not have anything to do, but I do."

I nodded sharply, and moved to get out of the car before Pam's hand stayed me again.

"Remember what I said," Pam warned, "rein Sookie in before we get on that plane." The Sheriff was back.

Nodding again in acknowledgement, I got out and made my way to my car. Driving back to Bon Temps I thought about the entirety of this eventful night: Eric's resignation, an ambiguous clue, a fateful conversation with Stan Davis, and Pam's vulnerability first with Sookie and then with me. Where Sookie, Eric, Pam, or I might be after Tulsa was unknown, but I couldn't shake the feeling that the world as we knew it was about to change irrevocably.

The next evening found me at Merlotte's near closing time. The crowd was sparse and there was only one other waitress working. Sookie's fatigue shadowed eyes and her sluggish step were remnants of the previous late night. I quickly decided that tonight would not be the best night to discuss Pam's concern over her wardrobe choices opting instead to simply escort Sookie home.

"Hey, Bill," Sookie said wearily as she dropped an order at the bar. "I'll be ready to go in about forty five minutes."

"I'll be here," I responded.

I watched as she delivered her drink order and began picking up salt shakers and ketchup bottles from the empty tables. Finally, her last table paid up and left and she began putting the chairs on the table tops. This time, instead of just helping her, I told her to get her purse and that this would be finished by the time she got back to me. I used my speed to get the chairs put up and was standing by the back door as she came out with her sweater on and her purse on her shoulder.

"Wow," she said, stopping in her tracks. "Sometimes I forget how fast you really are."

Sookie was silent as we walked toward her car.

"You look really tired, sweetheart," I said before I caught myself. '_Damn!__Where__did__that__come__from?__'_ I risked a sidelong glance expecting to see a glare accompanied by a sharp comment. Nothing. She seemed a million miles away. "Sookie?"

She turned to look at me. Something profound seemed to have changed in her since last night. She looked, smelled, and sounded as she always had, but I felt like I was looking at a different woman. I couldn't put my finger on it, but her eyes communicated something more than fatigue. I saw pessimism and profound sadness.

"Are you alright?" I asked cautiously.

"You'd think I would be used to all this by now," she said quietly.

It was a cryptic reply that matched the awful look in her eyes. I opened my mouth to ask her about it when she suddenly stumbled on the uneven gravel. I quickly scooped her up and carried her rest of the way to her car and around to the passenger side. I opened the door and set her inside. The fact that she did not protest was another cause for worry.

I zipped around to the driver's seat and asked for her keys. Wordlessly, she pulled them from the side pocket of her purse and handed them to me. She laid her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

"You can tell Pam I took the blue dress back," she said. Her head remained on the headrest; she rolled it so that she could look at me. "That's the one she said was too much." She laughed a little bitterly. "Actually she said it wasn't enough."

"You drove to Shreveport to take a dress back _today_?" I wasn't sure where she'd found the energy after her late night. Right now she looked ready to drop.

"She was right," she admitted. "I was stupid to pick a dress like that. Didn't want to wait too long to take it back. "

"I'm sure it was beautiful. Why did you take it back?"

"I would have just looked like higher class Vampire bait." There was a ghost of a smile on her face. Mine too as I remembered our first trip to Fangtasia.

"I wouldn't let Pam get to you," I consoled.

"She was right…," Sookie repeated. Her voice trailed off miserably. "About a lot of things," she finished.

Last night's overheard conversation made me certain she was talking about more than the dress. Her eyes were closed again effectively, signaling an end to the conversation for the remainder of the ride.

"We're here," I said coming to a stop. Sookie opened her eyes and moved to get out of the car.

"When do you work tomorrow?" I asked.

"I'm working lunch tomorrow and then dinner shift Saturday, Sunday, and then open 'til six on Tuesday. Then I'm off until we get back from Tulsa." That note of profound weariness continued to color her tone.

"We leave a week from tonight," I told her as I walked her to the back door.

"I know." The quick roll of her eyes was the first sign of 'Sookie' I had seen since I picked her up.

"Is there anything I can help you with between now and then?" I asked handing her keys to her.

"No," she responded. "I've got to get shoes for the dress I bought to replace the blue one, but other than that I'm set." She sighed heavily. "I just want this to be over." She turned to unlock the door.

"Sookie—"

"Not tonight, Bill," she interrupted, her back still to me. "No consoling. No explaining. No comforting." She leaned her head on the old glass of the back door. "I just can't do this anymore. I need to stop. I've committed to going to Tulsa, but after that…" Her words dangled, unfinished, but there had been a note of finality in her voice.

"You are exhausted," I said. "We'll get through this. I promise." I hoped that I could make good on that promise.

"I hope you're right," she said opening the back door and stepping inside. "Goodnight, Bill. Thanks for driving." She closed the door, and before I was to the end of the long drive, every light was off in her house. I hoped, for her sake that tomorrow and the days to come would go smoothly.

The next week went by quickly as I followed my usual routine: rise, bathe, dress, work on my database or other business for the kingdom, and go to Merlotte's and escort Sookie home. As the nights went by, we didn't talk about the upcoming trip, Eric or Pam. Sookie's mood seemed to level out. She didn't seem to be happy, but then she didn't seem to be angry or sad either. The best description I could give for her mood was 'resignation'. Whether her resignation was to the trip ahead of us or to her life without Eric, I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was both.

It was windy, cold, and drizzling when I drove to Sookie's house to meet the limousine after first dark on Thursday. The branches of the barren trees rattled eerily over the sound of dry, long fallen leaves blowing across the lawn in the winter wind. Collectively, they sounded like a wind chime made of bones. Though generally immune to all but extremes of cold, the overcoat protecting my suit felt good as it shielded me from the cold wind.

I'd expected Sookie to come to the door when she heard me setting my bags on the front porch. When she didn't, I debated the merits of knocking or just entering the house. She was expecting me, and I found myself concerned that she hadn't responded to the noise on the porch. The limousine driver was due to arrive in twenty minutes, so I decided to take the middle ground: I knocked, counted to ten and then tried the front door. It opened and I stepped inside.

"Sookie," I called out from the foyer.

"In here."

I walked past her suitcase, garment bag, and carry-on and into the living room following the sound of her voice. She was sitting on the sofa; both her face and her body were tense. I moved quickly to sit next to her. She looked at me and allowed me to take her hand.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently. She looked as pretty as I had ever seen her. Her hair was loose the way I loved to see it. She had on a white turtle neck sweater, tight dark blue jeans and boots. Her red jacket was carefully folded over the arm of the sofa next to her purse and gloves.

"Not sure," she said glancing up at me, "but overall I'd probably have to say no." Her eyes were dry, but her face showed obvious tension.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I keep thinking about history repeating itself."

"Is there a particular history you have in mind?" I prodded.

"Ours," she replied shortly. "I feel like I did the night you told me you were going to 'Seattle'." The edge to her voice was unmistakable. "There's a whole lot that's the same between that situation and this one, I think," she mused. "You both withheld information from me, though Eric, for his part, did finally tell me." I nodded, but said nothing. "You were called by your maker; Eric was contracted out by his. Lorena betrayed you. Who knows what may happen to Eric. You both wanted to pension me off." There was a hard knowing look in her eyes as she looked at me. "I could go on."

The truth of her observations caused me to cringe inwardly. I had known how hurt she was that long ago night, but she had done her best to keep me from seeing it. It had been the beginning of our end.

"It is too soon to tell how this is going to turn out, Sookie." I did my best to be reassuring, but I knew that Pam had been right in trying to prepare Sookie for an irrevocable change in her and Eric's relationship.

"Do you remember our walk the night you came to see Gran about speaking at the DGD?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes." It had been unforgettable for me. It was very early in our relationship, and I had started to become enthralled by Sookie. "I seem to remember that we made each other a little mad that night."

"We sure did," she agreed. "I said some thoughtless things about Vampire limitations, and you asked me about how I could have any kind of a relationship, you know, because of my telepathy. You pitied me and I hated it."

"I did not—"

"Yes, you did." she said, cutting me off before I could deny her characterization. "I told you then that I would just 'grow old and die.' As I think about it, I should have stuck with that plan." She reclaimed her hand and crossed her arms over her stomach. "Vampire relationships sure haven't worked out for me."

"You know how Vampires are. Things can turn on a dime. You know that." I reminded her. "Even if Eric does end up pledging to Freyda, it is likely that he will spend much of his time in Louisiana. I can't see him living full time in Oklahoma."

"Exactly how is that supposed to comfort me?" she asked.

"You and Eric could still have a relationship."

"Pfft," she snorted disgustedly. "Not likely. He told me that he has to consummate the pledging—marriage—whatever."

I wasn't surprised. I knew that would be her reaction. The moral laxity of our world notwithstanding, Sookie's personal relationship with Eric would be well and truly over if the pledging ceremony occurred. In her eyes, Eric would be married, and thus totally unavailable.

"Eric took a great risk to get the Crockett book to Pam. I'm sure he is intent not only seeing that Texas doesn't fall to Freyda, but I have to think he is still looking for a way to get out of this. He is not going to let Freyda get out of control, and he will not give up his freedom so easily." A look of something like hope flared in Sookie's eyes.

I pressed on. "We talked about what might happen if Stan Davis challenges her. She might be ended or Eric might have a case to make with the Clan Council that releases him from this obligation. Eric's place in Oklahoma is not a done deal, Sookie. Give him a chance to work his way out of it."

"I still don't want to do this," Sookie said waving her hand at her luggage. "I have no idea what de Castro thinks he's going to gain by making me go."

The doorbell rang. Sookie answered the door with me right behind her. As expected it was the limousine driver.

"Miss Stackhouse?" The driver asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Mr. Compton is with me. We're both ready."

"Is this all of your luggage?" he asked nodding toward my things on the porch.

"That is just my luggage," I told him. "I'll bring out Miss Stackhouse's luggage."

"Very good, sir. I'll go ahead and load this. Do you need any help with the lady's bags?"

"No, I have it," I told him. The human driver turned and picked up my suitcase and hanging bag. I'd brought my computer bag into the house with me and would keep it with me on the plane. I was always leery of someone else handling it.

I turned to Sookie and found that she had already moved back into the living room and was putting on her jacket and gloves. Both were a pretty red and looked wonderful on her. Her mouth was set into a grim, determined line. It was the look of a woman intent on following through on an obligation regardless of how miserable it made her.

"Are you going to be warm enough?" I asked her. Her jacket had a lining and a hood, but it was short, only covering her to her hips.

"This is what I've got, so it'll have to do," she said tersely. "I don't figure we'll be spending a lot of time outdoors." She finished by looping a navy wool scarf around her neck. "I'm ready if you are."

I picked up her bags and started toward the front door. Sookie zipped around me to hold it open for me. She followed me out, locked the door, and hustled down the steps and through the drizzle to get into the limousine. The driver had left the door open, so she slid into the back as I handed her luggage off to the driver.

I followed her into the back of the limousine and was surprised to see a warmed bottle of Royalty Blended and a bottle of chilled champagne sitting in the limo's small bar. As if the grimace that hovered between a scowl and a smirk on Sookie's face wasn't enough, the sardonic arch of her eyebrow told me she was not impressed.

The driver got into the car and rolled down the privacy screen. "The blood and the champagne are compliments of Mr. de Castro," he told us. "He said you are to enjoy it on the way to the airport."

Sookie rolled her eyes and looked out of her window.

"Would you like me to open the champagne?" I asked.

"Humph." An expressive, if inelegant reply. "No thanks." She nodded toward the warmed blood. "You probably haven't eaten, so you should drink that. I know that's a treat for y'all."

She was right. I hadn't 'eaten.' I took the bottled blood and drank it slowly. Not unexpectedly, Sookie continued to look out of the passenger window. She had never been comfortable watching me drink blood.

"Do you know who's traveling with us?" she asked.

"Pam, the other Area Sheriff's," I replied. "It is a charter. We're supposed to pick up Red Rita and the Arkansas Sheriffs in Little Rock."

Sookie nodded in response as she slipped out of her coat and gloves. The driver had the heat on full blast.

I continued to enjoy my blood as the world slipped by us. The drizzle had stopped, but the car was buffeted by the winds making me wonder if we would be taking off on time.

I put my hand on Sookie's arm. She turned to look at me. "Are you going to be alright?" I asked. I hated to keep asking that question, but I couldn't ignore the anxiety that seemed to be rolling off of her.

"I've spent a lifetime controlling my reactions to things, Bill. I will get through the weekend with all of its stupid events and then I will come home." She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Exactly, how _alright_I'm gonna' be remains to be seen."

She had steeled herself to get through this and because of that I was unrealistic to expect anything more than compliance. Her smile, her warmth or her sense of fun were nowhere to be found, and I wondered if they might not be gone for a good long while.

The driver used the intercom to let me know that more RB was available if I wished it and asked Sookie if the temperature in the car was comfortable. Apart from that, we passed the remainder of the ride in relative silence. Pretty soon the lights of the airport came into view.

The driver pulled onto the road taking us to the area for Anubis private charters. He pulled up to the guard gate and showed his ID before lowering the passenger window for the guards to check our IDs. We were waved through, and I could see the Embraer 190 waiting for us outside Anubis hanger number one. As we got closer to the plane, I spotted Herbert Zavier, Sheriff of Area Three walking up the stairs and several other Vampires and a few humans in their respective retinues milling around on the tarmac.

In the process of helping Sookie into her coat, I didn't notice where we were until the driver had driven past the plane and was headed to a separate hanger.

"Driver," I said into the intercom, "you have passed our plane. It is behind us."

"My instructions are to take you to hanger two," he explained.

I glanced at Sookie. Her face was lined with concern as she swiveled in her seat to look out the rearview window at the plane we should have been boarding.

"What's going on?" she asked anxiously, turning back to me.

"I don't know." My scalp prickled with rising concern.

Just as I pressed the intercom button again, the answer to her question came into view: a bright red Gulfstream 450, the words _Luna__de__Sangre_ written in bold black script along the side, was sitting half in and half out of hanger two. De Castro's private jet.

An alarmed 'Uh oh' came out my mouth, but it was echoed silently by a panicked _'__Fuck.__'_ My brain seemed to convulse with alarm. _Why__was__de__Castro__here__when__he__was__supposed__to__be__meeting__us__in__Tulsa?__Why__were__we__being__taken__to__his__plane?_ _What__the__fuck__was__going__on?_

"What do you mean, 'uh oh?'" Sookie asked. "What's going on?" she demanded her voice strident.

"It looks like we'll be taking alternative transportation to Tulsa." I tried to keep my voice calm, but the unexpectedness of seeing de Castro's plan had unnerved me. It looked like the Vampire games were beginning earlier than I had imagined.

"Damn it, Bill. Tell me what's happening!" Her voice wavered with panic.

"It's de Castro's private plane." I disciplined myself to keep my voice calm even as my gut roiled with foreboding. There was no benign reason I could think of for de Castro separating us from the others of his retinue.

"What does that mean?" Her voice quavered. "Why aren't we going with the others?" A mortal man would have felt significant discomfort as she squeezed my hand in her panic.

"Sookie, I don't know. This is as much a surprise to me as it is you."

The driver slowed to a stop at the red carpet leading to the base of the aircraft's boarding ladder. Sookie's dread began to ratchet up substantially as he began unloading our luggage.

"What are we supposed to do?" Sookie hissed, her terror palpable. "Why are we going with him? Why aren't we on the plane with the others?"

I had no clear answers for her panicked barrage of questions. I turned to her and took both of her hands in mine. I tried to infuse as much calm as I could into my words even though I had to speak hurriedly. De Castro would get suspicious if we lingered in the car too long.

"I do not know why there has been a change in plans," I confessed. "All we can do is board the plane and find out what is going on. I _promise_ you, de Castro will not hurt you. You are too valuable to him." I paused to gather myself to explain what I _thought_ his reasons for the unexpected action might be. "Remember that I told you that he may want to make it appear that you are his?" Sookie nodded warily. "That's probably all this is about. He probably wants to make a show of arriving with you."

"What if he wants to actually try to _make_ me his?" she asked.

"Then he'll have to go through me to do it," I answered simply. "He is older than me, but he would get badly hurt in a fight. It's even odds that I could take him." I tried to soothe her by running my thumbs over her knuckles. "I promise he won't hurt you." Her eyes searched my expression for signs of doubt or fear. I hoped that my 'Vampire face' hid the panic I was feeling.

"We need to get out. It doesn't do to keep the King waiting," I told her. Sookie brought her chilled hands to her face and pressed tightly in a gesture to bring herself under control.

The passenger door on Sookie's side was opened by the driver. She startled and turned her head sharply at the sound. She shivered as the cold, damp air whooshed into the warm passenger compartment.

"Miss Stackhouse?" the driver called, bending over slightly to catch her eye as he held out his had to help her from the car. She stared at it a few minutes and then after a brief glance at me, offered her hand to him to exit the car.

I slid out behind her and noticed a flight attendant standing at the head of the boarding stairs with her suit jacket clutched tightly together. Through the windows of the plane, I could clearly see de Castro's face watching every move we made.

Sookie continued to stand rigidly at my side, reluctant to move forward until I put my hand at the small of her back. With light pressure on her back, she started to move toward the plane.

"Sookie, you can do this," I encouraged as we walked. "You are the bravest person I have ever known. Don't let him cow you." She glanced over her shoulder at me and nodded slightly. Her mouth was set into a grim line, but her eyes were less frightened and more determined.

She mounted the stairs ahead of me gripping the handrail tightly. As we neared the top of the stairs, the flight attendant greeted us with a chilled, but nonetheless brilliant smile. "Miss Stackhouse, Mr. Compton, welcome to Blood Moon One. His majesty, King de Castro is waiting inside." Her pleasantries completed, she stepped aside and we entered the plane.

I remembered when de Castro had purchased this plane two years previously. It was among the most luxurious small passenger planes available at the time. Beyond the flight deck and small galley at the entrance there were eight seats arranged in two facing conversational groupings in the forward cabin. Two light tight berths had been custom installed at mid-cabin and beyond that, at the rear of the plane was a _very_ small head, an almost afterthought accommodation for human passengers. The interior was finished in neutral beiges, mahogany browns and accents of blood red. The carpet and leather seats contained the logo of de Castro's casino _Sangre__de__Luna_. It was an altogether beautiful plane befitting a king's vanity

The fact that Sookie seemed not to notice the lushness of her surroundings was not surprising. She had come to a stop just beyond the galley seemingly frozen in place as she faced the man who had wrought so much destruction in her life. As much as possible, Sookie needed to keep her nerves and her fear in check. Her best approach was to be respectful, but remain self-possessed. It was a tall order.

Once again, I placed my hand on the small of her and gave her a gentle nudge forward. I could feel Sookie trembling. As she moved further into the cabin, King de Castro came forward to meet her.

"Ah, Miss Stackhouse. How lovely to see you again." His smile seemed genuine, but his eyes seemed to appraise the woman before him. My nerves still thrummed with tension. De Castro could be utterly charming or absolutely deadly. I had seen him turn on a dime from one extreme to the other. Another small pressure on her back had Sookie taking another step toward him as he held out his hand.

De Castro had the patrician manner and erect bearing of the Spanish Don that he had been when he was human. His precisely tailored suit, starched white shirt, and kid leather boots lent an air of power and authority. With the exception of a thin mustache, he was clean shaven and his shoulder length black hair was tied back. It appeared that Sandy had been successful in persuading him to forego his black and red satin cape as it was nowhere in sight. Despite having seen the rise and fall of the Spanish Armada, he looked like a thoroughly modern twenty first century man.

"Mr. Compton." The King acknowledged me with a brief glance, but his attention was focused on Sookie. I returned his greeting with a respectful nod.

"Mr. de Castro," Sookie said inclining her head respectfully. I was pleased to hear her voice sounding firm with none of the trepidation she had shown earlier. She had come a long way in acknowledging ranking Vampires since Rhodes and her work with Sophie Anne. She took his proffered hand, and he led her to one of the seating groups.

He sat down across from the seats that he had indicated for Sookie and me and called for the hostess. "Kari, bring a blood for Mr. Compton. What would you like, Miss Stackhouse?"

"A gin and tonic, please," she replied. Once again I was struck by the calm that seemed to have settled over her.

As we waited for Kari to return with our drinks, de Castro picked up a phone embedded in the small table between us. "David, our guests are on board." He listened for a moment. "I'll tell them." He looked at Sookie and me. "The pilot requests that you fasten your seatbelts."

Kari returned with our drinks and then scurried off to take her place in the jump seat just outside the flight deck.

As we sat back and began to sip our drinks, the plane pushed back and we taxied out to the runway. Sookie was a relatively inexperienced and therefore a nervous flyer. Both de Castro and I noticed her white knuckled grip on the crystal glass holding her cocktail. I felt her left hand slide across the seat under the table and her fingers come to rest underneath my thigh, the fabric of my slacks pinched between her thumb and forefinger. We lifted off smoothly and Sookie relaxed slightly as the plane gained altitude and leveled out. Her hand traveled back across the seat to rest in her lap.

"Are you wondering why you are not traveling with the others?" the King asked suddenly, not addressing either of us the specifically. His tone was pleasant, conversational.

"Yes, sir," Sookie responded.

The King smiled slightly as he directed his gaze toward Sookie.

"As I said in the note that I sent with the necklace," he said, "I wish to get to know you better. I think that will improve our…_relationship_." He looked at Sookie with absolutely no expression on his face, but seemed to be waiting for whatever response she might have. She shifted slightly in her seat, but said nothing.

"Tell me, Miss Stackhouse, what do you think of me?"

I tensed at the potential for disaster in that question and glanced sidelong at Sookie. Outwardly, she appeared relaxed. It was the hornet's nest known as Sookie's temper that had me concerned. I had no doubt that if de Castro pushed her too far he would get to see it. Sookie's indrawn breath and focus on her hands presumably indicated that she was weighing possible responses.

"I think," she said raising her eyes to meet his, "that you are a man with a great deal of responsibility." She paused and let out a shallow breath. "I think all that responsibility has probably not made you any happier…or any richer." Sookie continued to hold his gaze, but her heart was beating rapidly. "I think you are worried about losing what you have." These last words with a note of challenge in her voice.

De Castro did not comment immediately, but continued to hold Sookie's gaze with enormous intensity. I uncrossed my legs and shifted slightly in Sookie's direction readying myself to intervene if he moved to harm her. My subtle movement would have been imperceptible to the human eye, but clearly must have been noticed by de Castro.

"Relax, Compton," the King said fixing me with a pointed glance, "you are both my guests. I couldn't very well be angry at Miss Stackhouse when I was the one to ask the question." His sharp tone seemed to deny his assurances and did nothing to alleviate my growing concerns.

"You're very perceptive, Miss Stackhouse," he continued. "How exactly did you come to that conclusion?" There was a clearly perceptible edge in the tone of his question.

"What goes around comes around," Sookie replied sharply. "You took Louisiana and Arkansas from a weak queen and you're afraid someone is going to take it from you."

"And what makes you think someone will try to take my kingdom?" de Castro challenged. "Do I appear _weak_ to you?"

_Careful,__Sookie._I thought. At thirty five thousand feet there is no place to run.

"I don't think you give a _**flip**_ for how you appear to me." Sookie's voice was controlled, but her anger was evident. "I think all you care about is hanging on to your kingdom and you will do anything_,_ use anyone to keep it. Why else would you have forced Eric into this charade with Oklahoma?"

"Sookie…" I said quietly trying to warn her that she was pushing her luck by being flippant with de Castro.

"I assure you that the pledging ceremony is not a charade, Miss Stackhouse." the King retorted angrily. "The Viking _will_ become Freyda's Prince Consort." A slow, self-satisfied smile spread across his features as he regarded Sookie. "That old bastard Ocella did me quite a timely service."

"How do you know it won't backfire on you?" Sookie challenged. "You put your best fighter in the enemy camp."

"Because _**you**_ are my insurance," de Castro countered smoothly. "Freyda covets you, and Eric cares for you. So, we're going to play a little _game,_ you and I."

I felt Sookie stiffen next to me. The manipulative, grasping, lethal side of the Vampire King to had come out to play.

"What do you mean? What kind of game?" she demanded. Her hands began to open and close spasmodically in her lap.

"Well…," the King drawled, "Freyda thinks that she is going to get you by using your bond to Eric as the draw. But we know something she doesn't, don't we sweet Sookie?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sookie said nervously.

"You know I have made the most _interesting_ acquaintances since I acquired Louisiana." That smarmy smile was still firmly affixed to his narrow face. "I believe we have at least one of them in common." De Castro raised his eyebrows mockingly.

"Who?" Sookie demanded.

"Why the father of your good friend Amelia Broadway, of course. Copely Carmichael. You do know him do you not?"

"_Fuck!__" _I screamed inwardly. He knew the bond no longer exists. Sookie was like a ripe peach to be plucked for his pleasure.

"Yes." Her face was placid, but Sookie's hammering heartbeat and clenched fists betrayed her rising panic.

"Good old Cope…a man after my own heart really." The King knew that he had Sookie cornered and was taunting her. "Always looking for a way to ingratiate himself."

Sookie sat quietly waiting for the hammer to fall. I was pretty sure that I knew what that hammer was going to look like and exactly where it would land. My assurances that we could get through the weekend quietly and safely was beginning to look like so many empty promises.

"It seems," the King continued silkily, "that Cope is beginning to see the advantages of his daughter's dabbling in witchcraft."

Sookie stiffened next to me. She realized where this was going.

"He told me all about how sad he was that Amelia had lost her friend Sookie." De Castro paused with an amused smile on his face. "Cope had lovely things to say about you, by the way." De Castro watched Sookie carefully hoping to break her calm façade

"He was most anxious to tell me all about her little spell that broke your bond with the Viking." The King continued. "And here I thought you two were so in love." De Castro's little pursed-lip moue was the perfect imitation of insincere consolation.

"He means nothing to me," Sookie said bitterly, "and I mean nothing to him. When he went to Oklahoma it was over. The divorce was just the formality."

I was amazed at how confidently Sookie said that. If I didn't know better I might have believed her.

"Oh my Sookie, _'__me__thinks__thou__doth__protest__too__much._'" The King's little half-smirk signaled his continued enjoyment of Sookie's discomfort. "Northman would never have agreed to my insistence that he honor his Maker's contract if it weren't for you. He'd have challenged me directly if he weren't so anxious to see to your benefit and safe keeping."

For the first time, Sookie broke her gaze away from de Castro. I glanced down to see her nails digging into her palms to keep herself from crying. Her worst fear had just been confirmed.

"What made him agree?" Her tone was flat as she worked to control her emotions. Sookie was determined to know as much of the worst as possible.

"I promised him that you would have the full benefit of my continued protection. That you would be allowed to live unmolested in your own home. That Freyda would never lay hands on you."

Sookie nodded once, sharply. It was the scenario that we had discussed.

"So…here's what we're going to do," the King said jovially. "You are going to be my constant companion this weekend. How better for me to 'protect you'? You are going to read the human's I have brought as guests and part of my retinue. You are going to report their misdeeds to me in front of Freyda."

"What purpose will that serve?" Sookie demanded, her fear becoming more evident.

"Freyda wants you very badly, my dear. She wants both Eric _and_ you. That is one of the reasons she insisted on Eric honoring the contract. Well…that and the fact that Eric has a reputation as a very skilled lover." De Castro's taunting tone was merciless. "Freyda's sexual appetite is well known, but I think he is certainly up to the challenge. You'd agree, yes?"

De Castro enjoyed his emotional knifing of Sookie's heart and continued to watch her like the predator that he was waiting to jump on any sign of weakness. He seemed determined to break her down. I could only wonder what atrocity he was holding in reserve.

"Why are you doing this?" The desolate tone of her question clearly signaled the effect of de Castro's efforts.

"Two reasons, actually." he said. "One, I did not appreciate your disrespectful behavior in Shreveport. You need to be brought to heel, dear Sookie." His sneering tone dripped with barely repressed anger. "And two, I am not a very patient man." de Castro asserted. "You are going to help me bring an end to Freyda. I'm tired of her gloating and innuendo."

"You already have three states." Sookie's tone was both frightened and incredulous. "Why would you possibly need more?" She still had not reconciled the avaricious nature of some Vampires. "

"Some people ask why…I ask why not?" He paused, waiting for Sookie's reaction. When he didn't get one he pressed on. "Great quote from Robert Kennedy don't you think?"

"So you just do something like trying to take another kingdom because you can. Do you ever stop to ask yourself whether or not you should?" Her fear was making tone was snippy and belligerent. She was throwing gasoline on already glowing coals.

"I've lived long enough to take what I want, when I want it…_Sookie._"His sharp tone and pointed stare made the implication of his comment clear. He wanted Sookie and if he was able to take Freyda's kingdom, Sookie would be next on his acquisition list. She would become his bonded pet. It made me wonder what he had planned for Eric.

Sookie and de Castro continued staring at one another. I could feel both Sookie's fear and her temper beginning to escalate. I needed to break the tension.

"Your majesty," I began, "Sookie has proven herself to be an asset to your kingdom." I knew that my tone sounded obsequious and I hated it, but I also knew that was what was expected of me. "I'm sure if you just let her know how she can help you—"

"Sookie is going to become my pet." De Castro spoke, never breaking his gaze on Sookie. His calm, self-assured tone frightened me more than his actual words.

"No!" Sookie shouted. "No! Over my dead body."

She began struggling trying to climb over me to get out of her seat next to the widow. In a flash, de Castro was on his feet, leaning over the small table between us, fangs down and grasping Sookie by the arms. He pulled her almost halfway across the table so that her face was very close to his.

I lept to my feet. "Your majesty—"

"Sit down, Compton. You will not rise another night if you challenge me. Look behind you."

The petite little flight attendant had a gun trained on me. I could only assume that it was loaded with silver bullets. If I moved against the King then she would shoot, and Sookie would be absolutely defenseless. Feeling like a mortal coward, I sat back down, and the King turned his attention back to Sookie.

"You—will—do—as—I-say, Miss Stackhouse." His tone was low, level and absolutely menacing. "You will be staying in my rooms, be on my arm, defer to me, and be _**respectful**_at all times. You will refer to me as 'Your Majesty' or 'Master.' You will not speak unless spoken to and you will behave. You will not disrespect me as you did in Shreveport. Do you understand me?" Each command had been punctuated by a sharp shake of Sookie's body.

Sookie did not speak nor did she cry out. She simply continued to glare at him; an action that seemed to redouble the King's threat.

"Do you understand?" he growled.

"I understand," Sookie said finally.

De Castro released her, and she sank back into her seat rubbing both of her upper arms where he had grasped them so tightly. She was sure to have bruises from the strength of his grip. The King settled himself back in his seat with a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

"Do you have the necklace?" he asked.

Sookie nodded in response.

"Why aren't you wearing it?"

"It doesn't go with the high-necked sweater that I'm wearing," she answered simply.

"So I see," he acknowledged. "That sweater presents another problem as well."

Sookie's rigid posture was painful to see. Both hands clutched the armrests and her knuckles were white with the effort.

"You see," the King explained, "pets usually have visible markings of their Master's affections. I intend for you to have those markings." He stood up and offered his hand to Sookie. "Come with me."

Sookie's eyes darted to me. They were awash in panic. "Bill…" she whispered. She made no move to get up and instead seemed to wedge herself farther back in her seat. It was almost as if she was willing the bulkhead wall to absorb her.

"Come along, Miss Stackhouse." The king made a-hurry-up motion with his hand. "This won't take long." The insidious intent in his voice was clear. There would be no getting out of this. "Who knows? You may find my bite quite pleasant." he insisted.

"Your majesty…if you will permit me." I kept my body between de Castro and Sookie hoping that I could delay his obvious intent.

"Permit you to do what, Bill?" he responded keeping his focus on Sookie.

"As you are aware, Sookie and I have a history. She can be very recalcitrant. You can't glamour her and you don't have the time to train her properly."

"You're point?" he barked.

"If Sookie is afraid of you, she may do something that will embarrass you when we are in Oklahoma's court. I don't think you want a repeat of her disrespectful behavior in Shreveport." I prayed to whatever god that might be listening that he would allow my next request.

"What do you suggest?" he asked.

"It's important that Sookie look like she is your _willing_ pet. Right now all you need is for her to be calm and obedient and to bear your mark. If you will permit me, I can mark her for you. She is accustomed to my bite."

"Bill, no!" Sookie shrieked.

"Shut up!" I growled whipping around to face her. I hoped that she would see that I was the lesser of two evils. I needed to convince de Castro of my loyalty and not let him see how abhorrent this was to me.

"When you have taken Oklahoma," I reasoned turning back to the King, "then you will have time to train her properly. You will enjoy the challenge." I hoped the smirking tone in my voice would convince him that I no longer harbored affection for Sookie.

"You—son—of—a—bitch." Sookie raged, biting off each word bitterly. "I trusted you." I felt the blow from her balled up fist as she hit me in the back. I whirled around and pulled her up and out of her seat.

"Do not strike me again." I growled as I held on to her arm. "Stand here and be quiet until you are told to speak." The dam of her control finally broke as the tears welled up in her eyes.

I couldn't afford to give her any sign that I was trying to help her. She needed to be angry and afraid to make this convincing. I had only one more reason to give de Castro for letting me be the one to bite her. I prayed with everything I had that he would accept it.

"If I mark her," I pressed, "Northman will have no right to challenge you before the Clan Council. Assuming he lives, of course. You will not have breached your agreement."

De Castro looked back and forth between the two of us. I had no idea if he would go for this or not. Until he decided one way or the other I was careful to keep Sookie behind me.

"Do it," he ordered.

My fangs snapped down.

"No!" Sookie screamed as she tried to pull away from me. She started to cry and railed against me.

"Give her a little of your blood to heal any bruising." the King ordered. "I don't want that creamy skin marred except for the bite marks. Make sure they are prominent."

I nodded in acknowledgement and turned to Sookie. Her tear-filled eyes regarded me with utter disbelief and betrayal. Not wanting to feel the pain of looking at her too long, I grasped her arm, pulled her in front of me and began to push her roughly down the aisle toward the small bathroom. I prayed that I could pull this off without raising de Castro's suspicion or losing Sookie's trust forever.

**NOTICE****OF****ERROR:** In Chapter 17, I implied that Oklahoma is in the Amun Clan. That is incorrect; Oklahoma is in Zeus as is Texas. To prevent further confusion, for the purposes of this story, Oklahoma and Texas will be in Amun. For the dedicated bookies out there, please accept my apologies.


	19. Chapter 19: Marked

**AN:** Happy New Year everyone! I hope your holidays were joyous and that you are starting the New Year with a sense of purpose and optimism. Best wishes for peace and prosperity in 2012.

Writing this story has been such fun and I really appreciate all of you who have favorited and alerted. My special thanks go to those of you who take a few minutes to write a review or comment. They mean the world to me and assist in my progress to becoming a better writer.

My wonderful beta, **Joyindenver** was unable to review this chapter, thus all mistakes are my own. I apologize for the italics that were run together in the last chapter. I tried to correct that before I published, but it still came out that way. My apologies.

Charlaine Harris owns all the characters whose names you recognize. I can't wait until we see what she puts them up to in **Deadlocked **coming in May.

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><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

"_If I mark her," I pressed, "Northman will have no right to challenge you before the Clan Council. Assuming he lives, of course. You will not have breached your agreement."_

_De Castro looked back and forth between the two of us. I had no idea if he would go for this or not. Until he decided one way or the other I was careful to keep Sookie behind me. _

"_Do it," he ordered. _

_My fangs snapped down._

"_No!" Sookie screamed as she tried to pull away from me. She started to cry and railed against me. _

"_Give her a little of your blood to heal any bruising." the King ordered. "I don't want that creamy skin marred except for the bite marks. Make sure they are prominent."_

_I nodded in acknowledgement and turned to Sookie. Her tear-filled eyes regarded me with utter disbelief and betrayal. Not wanting to feel the pain of looking at her too long, I grasped her arm, pulled her in front of me and began to push her roughly down the aisle toward the small bathroom. I prayed__ that I __could pull this off without raising de Castro's suspicion or losing Sookie's trust forever._

"You son of a bitch!" she railed at me. "I was a fool to trust you again. All you'll ever be is a lackey for some high-handed, overbearing, grasping, stupid Vampire that outranks you." She was sobbing so hard and so out of control her words came out as a strangled cry. "You're not a man, you're a _minion."_

She began digging in her heels and pushing back against me as we neared the bathroom in the rear of the plane. I put my arm around Sookie's waist, pulled her against my chest and lifted her from the floor.

"Stop it!" I growled at her. "You will only make this harder on yourself."

My tone was threatening and my voice loud enough to carry back to de Castro over the noise of the aircraft. Struggling desperately in my arms, I knew she was terrified. I hated her fear, but getting her out of de Castro's site and providing a show of competent strength was my priority. Any show of weakness and he would not hesitate to take over.

Keeping her off the floor and pinned to my chest, I managed to open the door to the incredibly small airplane bathroom and get us both inside. Barely. The space was no larger than a slightly oversized travel coffin, harshly lit and hardly large enough for one person, let alone two. Sookie's hips were pressed tightly against the sink cabinet and my legs were snuggly pressed against the toilet's edge. Worried that she would hurt herself in such a confined space, I tightened my grip around her waist. As she struggled for breath, her thrashing lessened and she sagged forward resting her hands on the edges of the very small sink.

"Why?" she wailed, her voice tear-filled and anguished.

I loosened my grip and turned her in my arms so that she was facing me. Her tear-stained face was a portrait of betrayal and agony. Her lashes glistened on her closed eyes; her breathing came out in harsh gasps. I pulled her to my chest in a gesture of comfort and her body went limp against mine. All the fight seemed to have gone out of her as her head fell forward to rest on my chest.

"Sookie, look at me." I whispered. No response. "Please. Look at me." Scalding shame punctuated plea. So often, I had fantasized about holding her, loving her both emotionally and physically and wanting to shelter her from our world as much as possible. Now I was about to bite her not as a culminating act of passion, but as a calculated act to satisfy a King's avarice.

I took her chin in my right hand and lifted her face to mine. "Look at me." I begged. Slowly her eyes came open. What I saw there came near to ending me where I stood. All of the anger and defiance I had expected was there, but was pitifully muted by betrayal and futility. It was as if she was simply waiting for this next act of treachery; as if she had known, somewhere in the recesses of her heart that I would be the one to deliver it.

"Please don't do this." she murmured softly. Her tearful, sapphire gaze sought my soul, begging me to back away.

The tortured pain of that look seared through me causing my arms to fall to my sides. Suddenly, as if my bones had dissolved, I sat down heavily on the closed toiled seat and slumped forward, my hands hanging loosely between my knees. The tight space forced my bowed head into Sookie's stomach. The weight of nearly one hundred and eighty years of fighting, treachery, betrayal, loss and misery had come down to this moment and I had become nothing more than the lesser evil.

How long we sat in that cramped bubble of misery I couldn't say. I was pulled into the present by the feel of Sookie's hand on the back of my neck, stroking lightly. I looked up into her eyes. All the fear and pain was still there, but it had softened slightly. Whether by understanding, acceptance or surrender, I didn't know.

"We sure get ourselves into some messes." she said quietly. Even though the heightened noise in the back of the plane would our muffle conversation she was careful to speak softly. However, even de Castro's heightened hearing would be impeded over the drone of the engines.

I nodded my head in silent agreement. "What do you want me to do?" I asked her, all the fight gone out of me. Even though the prospect of any positive outcome was next to nil, I was willing to do whatever she wanted me to do.

"What choices do we have?" she asked. Her question was a contradictory mixture of resignation and defiance.

"No viable ones that I can think of." I replied realistically. We are at thirty five thousand feet in a small aircraft with a Vampire King and a loyal flight attendant with a gun loaded with silver bullets and trained on me." Her hand stilled on the back of my neck. "If I challenge him, I will lose and you will be totally at his mercy."

"I can't become his pet." she asserted fearfully. "Please don't let that happen."

"I don't think you have to worry about that." I offered. "I think de Castro just signed his death warrant." My arms came up around her waist and I rested my cheek on her stomach. I held on to her much as child might cling to his mother. "If Eric retains _any_ loyalty to de Castro, this will end it." Sookie's hand resumed its petting motion on the back of my neck. It was a brief moment of familiar comfort for both of us.

"How do you know that he won't end _you_?" she asked. I'd certainly considered that possibility. He would not take kindly to my feeding from Sookie.

"There's nothing to say that he won't," I admitted, "but it won't be before I tell him of de Castro's treachery." I knew Eric to be a self-serving pragmatist, but he would never tolerate Sookie being used so callously by anyone, let alone a duplicitous King.

"How do you want to do this?" Sookie sighed bringing us back to the matter at hand. Seeing no way out of it, she was anxious to get it over with.

"I don't _want_ to bite you, Sookie. Not like this."

"You know what I mean." Her impatient tone was laced with nervousness anticipation.

"I won't hurt you." I tried to reassure her, but nothing was going to make this pleasurable for either of us. As much as I'd hungered for the taste of Sookie's rich blood, the setting and circumstances dulled all cravings. This would be about as romantic as bought and paid for blood and sex. The thought made me angry. Contemplating what I was about to do caused intense pressure to begin build in my head and chest. My hands bunched into tight fists and my arms tightened around Sookie. It wasn't until she dug her nails sharply into the back of my neck and pushed hard on my shoulders that I released my death grip on her.

"Sorry." I mumbled trying to tamp down the blaze of anger ripping through my gut. I stood up. There was absolutely no way to do this gracefully and I wasn't sure how to position either myself or Sookie so that she would be as comfortable as possible.

"Let's try this." I suggested as I turned Sookie's back to me. "You will need to feed from me first to heal any bruising from de Castro's rough treatment. If we wait until after, the bite marks will heal."

Sookie nodded wordlessly and crossed her arms over her waist. "I won't bite you, Bill." she said forcefully. "That was hard enough when we were a couple." Her reflection in the mirror over the small sink showed her trepidation at the prospect of taking my blood again.

"You won't have to." I said. "I'll open my wrist."

"Will I be able to feel you again?" she asked. Her question held no real emotion, but I was surprised by the lack of malice or anger.

"Not likely." I answered. "It has been long time since you've had my blood. I don't think you have to worry."

She held my gaze in the mirror for several heartbeats. "I'm worried." she murmured softly. "Not about that."

I don't think there is anything she could have said that would have shocked me more, but it was the only thing that she could have said that would ease my conscience even if only slightly.

"Will you be able to feel me?" she asked.

"Yes." I said simply watching her reflection. Waiting.

"It's okay." She continued to hold my gaze as she nodded her readiness.

I took my jacket off and hung it on the door hook before rolling up the sleeve of my dress shirt. Wrapping my left arm around her waist, I raised my right wrist and bit deeply. Sookie startled at the crunching sound and closed her eyes. I brought my bleeding wrist to her mouth holding it slightly over the sink so it wouldn't drip on her clothes. She bent forward, cupped my wrist in both of her hands and latched on. It was then that I began the struggle to hold myself in check.

Sookie had only drunk from me twice before: once when the Rattrays beat her nearly to death and the night before our first visit to Fangtasia. Then we had been lovers and it had been an erotic experience for both of us. We may have had our problems over the years, but physical connection whether through sex, feeding or both had never been one of them. Proof of the erotic effect of Sookie's drinking from me was clearly evident in the increasing tightness of my slacks and the tightening grip that Sookie had on my wrist and hand as she pressed it to her mouth.

Before I lost myself to the feel of Sookie's soft, warm mouth drawing from my wrist, I pulled it away. If I gave her too much then even my bite marks would heal. If we were going to play this game with de Castro it would be necessary to play according to his rules at least for the time being.

"That's enough." I told her. I continued holding my wrist over the sink until the wound closed. Sookie's reflection in the lavatory mirror revealed bright, slightly dilated eyes and flushed cheeks. She looked almost feverish. "Are you alright?" I asked. She nodded slowly continuing to hold my gaze in the mirror. As much as I didn't want to, I couldn't help but feel a little smug at the effect that my blood still had on her.

"Are you ready?" I asked. The faintly aroused gleam in her eyes was quickly replaced by apprehension.

"Don't hurt me." she said anxiously.

"Never." I responded quickly. "Do you want to face me or continue facing away from me," I asked. Our height differential was going to make this difficult.

"Away." she said.

I eyed her sweater. The white turtle neck sweater looked lovely on her, but the high neck would not allow me anything but the most awkward access along with the likelihood of soiling it.

"What do you want to do about your sweater?" I asked carefully.

She looked at herself in the mirror, closed her eyes, shook her head slightly and drew in a deep breath. Her facial expression stopped just short of embarrassed humiliation. Then, in one quick movement, the sweater came off to lay crumpled in the lavatory sink. The challenging look in her eyes dared me to comment. I carefully averted my eyes keeping them trained on hers instead of drinking in her reflection and the swell of her creamy breasts rising above the cups of her beige lace bra. My fangs pressed painfully against my gums as every instinct called me to bury them in her soft, inviting flesh.

With the sweater barrier removed, I tried bending her forward over the sink steadying her with my left arm around her waist and my right forearm just above her breasts. The incredibly tiny space wouldn't allow for a comfortable angle. Sookie's forehead was pressed to the mirror and her neck was at an awkward angle. I pulled back.

"Crap!" she exclaimed. With that option out of play, she quickly turned to face me. "Will this work?" she demanded as she put her arms around my waist. Her sharp tone reflected her apprehension.

"We can try." I hated the awkwardness of this awful situation.

I bent my head to her neck trying not to think about the warmth of her body as it pressed along the length of mine. As I bent over, it caused her to have to bend backward over the sink. It was doable, but at this angle, I would be biting her just below her ear, near the base of her skull. It would be painful for her and not leave de Castro's desired visible markings as prominently displayed as I knew he wanted them.

"This won't work, Sookie." I said pulling back from her neck. "I'm sorry." The only time I had bitten anyone in such close quarters had been with Sookie in the trunk of a stolen car in Jackson, Mississippi. My starvation and blood lust had overridden any concern I might have had about the pain I was causing her. I wasn't going to let that happen again.

"Oh for heaven's sake." she cried in exasperation. She looked around trying to figure out a way to get this done. "Sit down." she commanded sharply.

I did as I was told and as quickly as my butt hit the closed toilet seat, Sookie was straddling my lap facing me, her legs spread wide and draped across my thighs, wedged in the tiny space on either side.

"I'm pretty sure this will work." she said sardonically. I hated the hard, hunted look of determination that had settled on her face. She bent her head to her left and swept her hair away from her neck looking at me expectantly, right eyebrow cocked upward.

I knew it would work as well, but the temptation to go further than biting was unbearably tempting. This had always been one of our favorite positions during our lovemaking. The memory of our intimacy caused a familiar twisting anticipation and tightening in my gut.

Wordlessly, I put my arms around her waist and pulled her body closer to mine. Her hands wrapped around my biceps. My fangs ran down as I lowered my face to the warm, fragrant curve of her neck. Unbidden, I felt my blood lust rising. Between my constant longing for the beauty in my arms and my ongoing lack of live blood, I felt my hunger escalate. Knowing that this could not be put off any longer, I licked her neck twice to bring the vein closer to the surface and struck. Sookie did not cry out, but jumped reflexively more from the suddenness of the bite than from the pain.

The moment her blood spilled across my tongue I was lost. It had been so long. I had forgotten how wonderful, how glorious she tasted…thick, sweet and creamy like the molasses candy of my youth. I closed my eyes tightly as images of our past swam before my eyes: licking her wounds after the Rattray's beating, combing her hair…making love the first time…relaxing with her in a warm bath. Holding her. Needing her. Loving her. Involuntarily my arms tightened around her, crushing her to my chest, my right hand rising to fist in her hair.

The slight salty taste of her blood only enhanced its sweetness as it slipped down my throat. I was tethered to the physical realm only in the places where my body came in contact with Sookie's. Her soft breasts pillowed against my chest…her smooth skin under my hands…her fragrance filling my nose. All of it driving my senses and making me crave more intimate contact. Involuntarily, my hips began to move underneath her.

On the edge of my faltering awareness I heard soft mewling sounds coming from Sookie and I felt her arms slide around my shoulders in an embrace. Her fingers came to rest in the fringe of hair at the nape of my neck; her head lay on my right shoulder. I felt her shudder and begin to squirm in my lap.

"Sookie…." Unintentionally it came out as a growl as I raised my mouth from her neck. "Stop moving." I commanded barely hanging on to my control.

I quickly licked her neck to seal the wounds, but not heal them. I brought my elbows down firmly on the tops of her thighs to arrest her movement and clamped down, holding her hips still. A few more brushes of her womanhood over my beginning-to-be-painful erection would lead to massive embarrassment for both of us.

"Did you get enough?" she asked unsteadily. Her heart was beating rapidly, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

"I just meant to mark you. I am not trying to feed." I told her. "I took only enough to ensure that the puncture marks were deep enough to be visible. Less than a mouthful."

Still straddling my lap, she pulled back, sat up straight and looked at me carefully. "When is the last time you had human blood?"

"A good while." I told her.

"Doesn't make you stronger?" she asked.

"Yes." I looked at her carefully trying to get read on where she was going with this.

"I need you to be strong, Bill. I want you to take some more." She continued to look at me for a few heartbeats and then cocked her head to one side and swept her hair off her neck once again.

I hesitated. My instincts, my heart, my libido and every other part of me wanted to bury my fangs in her neck, my cock in her body and never come out, but not now. Not like this. I couldn't take advantage of her fear and vulnerability.

"Sookie…" I started.

"Bill," she interrupted sharply, "you're all I have right now. I am afraid, heartbroken, feeling used and beyond pissed off." she continued quietly. "I need you to be strong. I need to have some hope that we are going to come out okay on the other side of this. I need to be able to count on you. _Please_ don't let de Castro turn me into his pet." I looked in her eyes, so wide, so blue and so beautiful and saw willing encouragement.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"As sure as I can be of anything." she answered simply. "But no sex." she said glowering at me. It was just enough to lessen the tension between us even if it didn't do much for the ache in my loins. I rolled my eyes are her and nodded before bending my head to her neck once more.

A few minutes later, I licked her neck once again to seal, but not heal the wounds. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"I'm fine." she said dazedly. "Just give me a minute to get my wits about me." She continued to straddle my legs with her arms resting lightly on my shoulders. I would have gladly held her that way for eternity.

"_Mr. Compton, Miss Stackhouse,"_ the pilot called over the intercom, _"please return to your seats. We_ _will_ _be landing in Tulsa in ten minutes"_

Sookie sat up and backed off of my lap. She swayed slightly and I reached out to steady her from my perch on the closed toilet seat. "Are you alright?" I asked a third time.

"Yes." she insisted. It's just been awhile since we did that."

"I am going to have to treat you differently when we go back out there." I told her, embarrassed that the role of the autocratic, cold, uncaring Vampire came so easily to me. I was ashamed to have to play that part with Sookie.

"I know." she said simply as she turned clumsily to examine herself in the mirror. A deep frown contorted her face as she looked at the raw, clearly visible puncture wounds on her neck. She pulled a paper hand towel from the holder on the wall, wet it in the sink and dabbed at the lightly seeping wounds before wiping a few drops of blood from her chest. "You go back out. Tell de Castro I am very upset and pulling myself together." She paused and sighed. "It won't be a lie."

I nodded as I rolled my sleeve down and reached around her to take my jacket off the hook. Carefully, so as to not strike Sookie in the head, I shrugged into my jacket stealing another glance at her as she continued to stare at herself in the mirror. She found my reflected gaze.

"I said I was okay, Bill. Put your Vampire face on and go cozy up to de Castro."

"I'm sorry." I offered again.

"No time to be sorry, Bill. We all have a role to play." she said briskly. "You're the King's Vampire lackey, I'm the disposable human and de Castro is the son of a bitch who is going to die if I have anything to say about it. Now go on before he gets suspicious."

I couldn't suppress my smile at her steely determination. I knew that I would do whatever it took to keep her safe and help her live up to her pledge. We just needed to keep it together and play our respective parts. I arranged my face into Vampire indifference, unlocked the door and closed it behind me before striding down the narrow aisle to my seat.


	20. Chapter 20: Cornered

**AN: **My husband's heart scare…planning a wedding with the bride in abstentia…my job…a home to keep. These have been the days of my life since the last post on January 9th. My muse didn't just fail to cooperate, she went into in hiding. Fortunately she has crept back from the shadows having been encouraged by the wonderful Joyindenver. I was lost without you, Chica. Thank you all for waiting patiently.

Readers, you owe a debt of gratitude to **madamegreatness, veryzealousreader, Demeter1973** and **several others** who give regular, specific, and critical feedback and who have helped this story be better than it might have been.

Charlaine Harris has all the rights to SVM, Allan Ball has all the rights to True Blood, I have the rights to neither.

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><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

_"No time to be sorry, Bill. We all have a role to play." Sookie said briskly. "You're the King's Vampire lackey, I'm the disposable human and de Castro is the son of a bitch who is going to die if I have anything to say about it. Now go on before he gets suspicious."_

_I couldn't suppress my smile at her steely determination. I knew that I would do whatever it took to keep her safe and help her live up to her pledge. We just needed to keep it together and play our respective parts. I arranged my face into Vampire indifference, unlocked the door and closed it behind me before striding down the narrow aisle to my seat._

Ahead of me in the small galley, I could see de Castro talking to the flight attendant and holding the gun that she'd held trained on me. He looked up, fixing me with a pointed stare and a smirk on his lips. I settled into my seat and didn't have long to wait before he joined me.

"Where is the lovely Miss Stackhouse?" the King asked.

"She was upset. I left her to gather herself."

"Did you mark her well?" His tone was smug and condescending. "I can smell her on you. Your coloring almost makes you look human."

"I did, but the marking won't be visible until she wears something more revealing." I hoped that my response sounded unconcerned, matter-of-fact.

The King continued to look at me steadily. What was going on behind his cold stare, I couldn't say.

"She was yours was she not?" he asked suddenly.

"She was." A warning twitched down my spine.

"And why is she no longer?" he pressed, a speculative gleam lighting his eyes.

"Sheriff Northman required me to tell her of my mission for the Queen." The twitch was now a frisson of alarm at the King's sudden interest in my relationship with Sookie. "Sookie felt that I had lied to her." I told him. "That I had seduced her insincerely, callously."

"Was it?" he prodded. He pinned me with a piercing, calculating gaze.

"I'm sorry, Majesty. Was it what?" I feigned confusion praying that I was wrong about the intent of his question.

"Your seduction; was it insincere? Was it callous?"

His tone was lighthearted, almost as if he was laughing inwardly at some private joke. He seemed to know more than his questions indicated. I felt sure that any answer I gave would peg me as a liar or make both Sookie and I more vulnerable. Any thought that she was important to me made our situation more precarious than could be imagined. I hoped to deflect his interest with as much partial truth as I could.

"My mission was to investigate Sookie's talents," I explained. "Sookie's cousin, Hadley, was the Queen's pet. The Queen hadn't been sure she could trust Hadley's claims."

"All old news," the King snapped, waving his hand dismissively. "You haven't answered my questions." His voice was quiet, but his tone was menacing.

"Prior to meeting me, Sookie's talent was generally suspected, but not openly acknowledged by the people in Bon Temps. In order to verify Hadley's claim I had to get close to her."

"Are you still _close _to her?" He leaned forward slightly as if nearness would help him gauge the truth of my words.

His mocking emphasis on the word 'close' worried me. A hard lump of dread settled itself in my chest. I was learning quickly that de Castro was a master of leveraging people and information. It made him adept at playing both ends against the middle.

"I've needed to appear to be her friend," I responded carefully. "Personal relationships are important to Sookie. In order to follow your directive to guard her, I've had to maintain a positive relationship with her."

"You've _**had**_ to…oh my. How _impersonal, _how taxing you make it all sound, Bill." A smirk was fixed on his lips. "You almost make me think guarding Miss Stackhouse is a burden."

"She can be difficult," I said cautiously, desperate to keep my feelings about Sookie away from de Castro's scrutiny.

"You are a Vampire, Mr. Compton. Surely one little slip of mortal girl shouldn't give you that much trouble." Another assessing pause. "Unless of course you are interested in more, much more than just earning her trust."

I had nothing to say to that.

De Castro turned in his seat as he heard the bathroom door open. We both watched Sookie as she made her way down the narrow aisle. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face tense. Without looking at either de Castro or me, she took her seat one row back and across the aisle from where we sat.

"Come join us, my dear," de Castro called solicitously. "We are ready to land."

Sookie turned her cold gaze briefly in his direction and then buckled her seat belt where she was sitting before turning her face to the widow. Anger flashed across the King's face. Without a word he got up and moved to sit in the aisle seat next to her. _Don't push him,_ I begged her silently.

"Either you have a very short memory or you are not taking me seriously," he spat out. His face contorted into an ugly mask of threat. She continued to ignore him. Growling in angry frustration, he grasped her chin tightly in his right hand and jerked her head around to face him. She winced as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her cheeks, but her gaze was fearless as she focused on his face. "Your obedience begins _**now**_. Get. Up." he ordered. Jerking her chin out of de Castro's grasp, she glared at him before unbuckling her seat belt.

I slid over to the window seat as Sookie crossed the aisle to take the seat next to me. De Castro sat down directly across from her, but she seemed to look beyond him over his right shoulder. She refused to make eye contact with either of us as the plane began its descent into Tulsa.

"Just so that we are all clear," he began, "I intend for this weekend to go smoothly and end with my objectives being met. I will not tolerate insolence or insubordination from you, Ms. Stackhouse." His voice was hard, commanding. "Toward that end," he continued, "I need you to understand that failure to cooperate will have consequences. Bubba is an interesting fellow wouldn't you say, Bill?" The question was jarring not only because of the sudden change of topic, but also because he continued to stare at Sookie even as the question was addressed to me.

"I've always found him so," I replied cautiously. De Castro's cold, predatory stare remained focused on Sookie. I could feel her stiffen as she sat next to me.

"Bubba has been a guest at Luna de Sangre for several weeks now. Were you aware?" De Castro asked casually. He sat back in his seat as the plane touched down with a small thump. "I've been trying to convince him to headline in my main showroom." Turning his gaze to me he continued, "He speaks quite highly of you, Bill. I think I might enlist your help to convince him to showcase his talents in my casino."

Sookie sat rigidly tense, her hands fisting suddenly at the mention of Bubba being made to sing. She still carried guilt over her part in using him as the bait in the plot to end Madden at Fangtasia. Her heart ricocheted wildly in her chest as de Castro turned to pin her with his stare once again.

"Bubba really doesn't like you kissing _'Mr. Eric,'_ Sookie." His voice held mocking laughter as he dangled Bubba's deferential reference for Eric in front of her. 'He thinks that 'Mr. Bill' is much better suited for you. He told me that Bill loves you, and he is sure that you love Bill. Is he right?"

Sookie sat motionless, her face drained of all color. "What does it matter to you?" she whispered shakily, her spirit beginning to fray badly.

"Because it will make what I have to say mean more to you if you do. Raise the _**stakes**_, so to speak." His soulless smile chilled me. "You see, Sookie, your temperament and reputation for impetuousness are well known. While I appreciate your feistiness, I can ill afford either while we are in Oklahoma. So, I've decided to give myself some additional insurance."

Sookie said nothing.

"I very much _like_ having the deck stacked in my favor," he explained. "You see, Bill is _mine._ As my subject I can enjoy his counsel, use his data base, and I appreciate his business acumen. I can promote him, demote him, call him into my presence, or send him as far away as I choose all because he—is—mine. I can also _end_ him if I choose. He has no maker to demand reparations; the Clan Council will not challenge me. He is mine to do with as I please, and he could easily disappear with no one the wiser. Except _you_, of course."

"Why…why would you do that?" Sookie's breathless stammer and frightened expression told me that she already knew the answer.

"Because you will do as I say throughout this entire weekend or Bill will experience some of the less pleasant aspects of being mine." His coldly appraising look swept over me as he waited for the effect of his words to sink in. Sookie had gone completely still beside me as if any movement might push her, or me off an invisible cliff.

"You can very easily keep Bill safe, Sookie." His tone was gently placating. "You just need to be your _**best**_ self." He paused to smile at her. "Smile for me. Flirt with me," he continued. "Be vivacious. Be the beautiful, talented young woman that seems to have mesmerized both the Viking and Mr. Compton." He flicked a look of contempt in my direction. "In short, I want _**you**_ to be the belle of Freyda's ball. Do you understand?" His voice was unnervingly kind, but his face was devoid of all expression as he waited for her reply.

We'd come to a stop on the tarmac. De Castro stared at Sookie, the only sound to be heard were the noises of the plane's systems shutting down, the thunking, bumping sound of bags being unloaded, and the rapid rush of air in and out of Sookie's lungs. She looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to cry or scream.

"Do not try my patience. Do—you—understand?" the King demanded again.

Sookie's mouth opened and closed several times before she finally answered in a small voice. "Yes…I understand."

She and I both understood that de Castro was using her as the bait to force Freyda's hand. The wild card was Eric. How would he react to Sookie's and de Castro's public performance? Would he throw his lot in with Freyda by attacking de Castro or would he be an instrument of her demise thus winning de Castro's favor? Only time would tell.

"Excellent!" the King crowed. "We begin anew. Get your things and let's deplane. I will go out first, Miss Stackhouse…Sookie…you will be behind me. Mr. Compton, you will bring up the rear." His self-satisfied, triumphant demeanor grated.

Kari came forward to hand us our coats. The King stepped forward and took Sookie's coat from Kari's hand and held it open for Sookie to slip into. She looked startled and wary before turning around to accept his assistance.

"Oh...before I forget," the King said looking squarely at me, "Sandy will be waiting outside and will ride in the car with us. You will be her escort this weekend." He paused to gauge my reaction; his hands on Sookie's shoulders. I was careful to keep my face as neutral as possible. "Sandy has been such a good and loyal lieutenant over the years. I want to reward her faithfulness. She is so very enamored of you, Bill, that I couldn't help but reward her with a guarantee of your _undivided_ attention. You _can_ do that, can't you?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Of course, you're Majesty." What other answer could I give? It was clear: de Castro was Sookie's keeper and Sandy would be mine. "It will be my pleasure." I assured him.

"Wonderful, Bill. See that you take good care of her." Another pointed stare from the King. "I'm sure I'll hear about it if you are neglectful."

Sookie stood stock still. De Castro's hands were still on her shoulders after helping her into her coat. I could see her willing herself not to shrug him off.

"Ready, my dear?" he asked. Sookie nodded her head without looking at him and stepped aside to let him pass. "I'll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs and will escort you to the car."

When she didn't say anything and continued to avert her eyes, he reminded her, "Remember, Sookie…Bill's continued existence is largely in _your_ hands. Play your part well and this will go much more smoothly. It doesn't _have_ to be awful." He smiled pleasantly as he lowered his mouth to her ear. "I'm really quite charming when I want to be," he whispered; his suave Castilian accent had become almost a purr. He straightened and laughed suddenly and with what might be almost a bounce in his step he strode purposefully toward exit. I could hear the sound of his feet as he clattered down the stairs of the plane.

"_Everyone sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are," _Sookie murmured quietly.

"Sookie?" No response. "We need to go." She didn't move. Her feet were rooted to the floor as she stared down the aisle. "Sookie!" Shaking her head, she seemed to return from wherever she had been.

"Are you afraid?" she asked, half turning toward me. She sought the depths of my eyes, piercing my heart as she waited for my answer.

"Not for myself," I answered truthfully, motioning her toward the aircraft exit. "I'll be fine, just watch yourself. Play along. Don't antagonize him." I urged her down the aisle. "Don't set yourself up to be a conquest. He likes the thrill of the hunt too much."

"I'm terrified," she admitted beginning her reluctant walk down the aisle.

"I know you are. Despite the threats, he is being very careful," I whispered. "I think he is more worried about the Clan Council's reaction than he is willing to let on." Up ahead, Kari was a looking directly at us, her hostess smile firmly planted on her face, her eyes watchful. "Sookie, you are not an unknown among our kind. He will not let you get hurt. There would be too much he'd have to answer for." I placed my hand on the small of her back partially as reassurance and as a means to urge her toward the door.

"I'm worried for you," she said glancing quickly over her shoulder. Her eyes showed her fear.

"Don't be. This is not unfamiliar territory for me," I reassured her. I couldn't let her know just how worried I really was for _her_. We were both in very precarious positions with no ready ally, but of the two of us, she was the most vulnerable.

We reached the open door way and received a goodbye nod from Kari. She favored me with a wide grin as I passed, as if she hadn't held a cocked and ready gun on me only a short while ago. Then I realized she had been glamoured by de Castro. She really _didn't_ remember what she had done.

Sookie paused at the top step of the stairway. The chilled wind whipped her hair into a blond cloud around her head. She clutched the front of her coat in one gloved hand and started down the stairs gripping the handrail tightly as she went. Following her, I could see de Castro as he stood near a limousine talking to the largest man I had ever seen. This could only be Avinash, Freyda's child and second.

He was dressed in contemporary clothing, but it took no imagination to see him astride a Cayuse pony dressed in buckskins and war paint. He was easily six-seven or six-eight in height, exceptionally tall for a Native American. The angle that he stood at, I could see his long, shiny, black hair tied back with a leather thong. As we reached the bottom of the stairway, the features of his face became more distinct. They were classic American Indian: depthless black eyes, smooth skin stretched over high, sculpted cheekbones, a broad forehead leading to a prominent nose and full lips. Other than Sophie Anne's protectors Seigbert and Wybert, he was the most imposing Vampire I had ever seen.

Eric was tall, athletic, and fast. The weretiger Quinn was larger in body, a little taller than Eric, and a revered pit fighter. Next to Avinash, they dwarfed in comparison. He was larger, powerfully built, and by reputation a skilled and dangerous fighter favoring the tomahawk as his weapon of choice. My original thought that Eric would be very challenged in a head-to-head confrontation with the Freyda's lieutenant had proven to be correct. He would, no doubt, be a formidable foe in defense of Freyda.

De Castro's head swiveled in our direction as he heard us coming down the stairs. Leaving Avinash behind, he strode to the foot of the stairway and offered his arm to Sookie. She looked at it for a heartbeat before looping her arm through his with her eyes downcast.

"Look at me," he commanded, his tone quietly terse. "Smile."

She turned to look up at him. In profile I could see the beginnings of what had been referred to as her 'crazy Sookie' smile: small, false, and intended to cover up inner turmoil. If there was ever an appropriate time for it, this was it. De Castro acknowledged her smile by placing his hand over hers as it lay on his arm in an outwardly affectionate gesture as he led her to the limousine.

As we neared the car, the back door opened suddenly and Sandy stepped out. She stood respectfully next to the open door waiting for de Castro and Sookie to enter the limousine, glancing coolly at Sookie as she approached, but favoring me with a bright smile. Avinash made his way from the lead car to join us, nodding respectfully to the King.

"May I have a word with your companion, you're Majesty?" he asked. His voice was very deep, almost guttural.

Sookie flinched. She had seen how human _'companions'_ had been treated in Rhodes. I was sure that she had never imagined herself in that servile role. I couldn't begin to imagine what would go through Eric's head when he got word of this _'new arrangement'_ between Sookie and the King.

When de Castro nodded his assent, Avinash turned to face Sookie directly offering a slight bow. "My mistress, Queen Freyda asks me to convey her welcome to you personally. She is pleased to have you in her state and in attendance at the happy occasion of her pledging to Eric Northman."

His speech sounded unnatural, rehearsed. A look of distaste had accompanied his use of Eric's name and there was something like pity in his eyes as he addressed Sookie. It appeared that he and Sookie might have similar feelings about the pledging. It also appeared that Freyda was determined to twist the knife in Sookie's heart. I couldn't see her face, but from experience I was sure that Avinash had been treated to a brief, insincere smile as she inclined her head, but made no comment.

"Are we ready to proceed?" the King asked, a hint of impatience tinting his voice.

"Yes, you're Majesty," Sandy hastened to assure him. "We will proceed directly to the compound and you will be shown to your accommodations." Sandy glanced quickly over his shoulder at me. "The remainder of your retinue has already arrived and are in route," she told the King. "They will be waiting for you at the Queen's compound." Her face carried its usual bland, officious expression, but there was an uncharacteristic tenseness around her eyes.

"Very good," he said before turning to Sookie. "Are you ready, my dear?" Her head lifted jerkily to meet his gaze. She was trembling. Only she knew if it was from the cold or her own fear. Nodding in response, she walked past Sandy to enter the backseat of the car with de Castro right behind her. Sandy stiffened, looking slightly startled, nostrils flaring as Sookie passed by. Sandy's gaze snapped to me, her face stressed, confused, and crestfallen. I wasn't certain if she knew of de Castro's plans for me should Sookie fail to meet his expectations, but she certainly looked unhappy. I gestured for her to proceed me into the car. She paused, looking in my eyes as if she were trying to see the meaning of life before nodding sharply and turning to enter the car. I had no clue what was going through her mind.

For everyone but de Castro, the ride to Freyda's compound was stressful and mostly silent. De Castro had Sookie firmly planted by his side. He uncurled Sookie's hand that he'd been holding and laid it flat atop his thigh. He placed his hand over hers as if they had been long time lovers. My gaze darted to Sookie. She looked as if she was going to be sick at any moment. She had never been that overtly affectionate in public with either me or Eric. In between furtive, searching glances at me, Sandy tried to make polite conversation with her, but between Sookie's revulsion and Sandy's obvious disdain the attempt was soon abandoned.

Fortunately, the ride was fairly brief; Freyda's compound was only about ten miles out of the city center. We rode along the eastern bank of the Arkansas River and then into the heavily wooded foothills below Holmes Peak, the tallest point in the area. The gates of the compound swung open to greet us as we arrived. The drive to the compound took us along a winding road lined with trees lit by twinkling white lights. Pulling to a stop, our door was opened by a young male Were dressed in a western shirt, jeans, a belt buckle the size of a satellite dish, and boots. Whether that was the standard mode of dress in the Queen's compound or an affectation for the western themed activities of the weekend wasn't clear.

"Good evening, you're Majesty," the young Were greeted de Castro as he exited the limo. "Your bags have already been delivered to your rooms." The King nodded curtly as he handed Sookie out of the car maintaining his solicitous hold on her. Sandy and I followed after them.

"This is my companion: Miss Stackhouse," the King said introducing Sookie. "Has someone been provided to attend her?" he asked the Were.

I knew Sookie would be uncomfortable with the idea of a 'lady's maid,' but at least she would have someone to talk to during the day. Only Vampire royalty and a few important members of their retinue were afforded space in the compound. Human guests were being housed in Tulsa hotels and brought in by limousine busses to the mixed events during the wedding weekend. I couldn't say how many humans might be in residence, but I imagined that it would be very few.

"Yes, you're Majesty," a young girl of obvious Native American ancestry stepped forward. She was a Were. "My name is Inola." Her manner was polite and the smile she directed first at de Castro and then at Sookie was beautiful. "I will be honored to attend Miss Stackhouse."

Inola's small, lithe body and glossy black hair that reached to the middle of her back lived up to the meaning of her name: black fox. I found myself momentarily distracted by thoughts of what she looked like as she shifted on her moon nights.

"This way," said the young Were cowboy, jolting me into the now. "I'll lead the way to your suite."

The four of us followed the cowboy and Inola through the heavy, rustic double doors into the main reception area of Freyda's extensive compound set in the verdant forest at the base of Holmes Peak. We made quite a procession as our guide took us through the gardens also lit with twinkling lights, and into the three story building north of the Queen's residence. My initial research into the makeup of Freyda's compound on Google Earth showed it to be not only an extensive royal residence, but also a functioning operations center for her kingdom. The Queen's private residence carried the look of a rustic lodge with high beamed ceilings, stone floors, deep leather furnishings, and western art. The three well spaced, log cabin out buildings provided guest accommodations, entertainment, and meeting rooms. Both the main house and two of the buildings were large and surrounded by wide verandas running along three sides on the first floor with spacious balconies extending from the guest rooms on upper floors. The third building was smaller, closer to the rear of the Queen's residence and looked to be an oversized pool cabana. All of it spoke of quiet power and extravagant luxury.

De Castro continued to hold Sookie's arm, with his hand caressing hers as it lay on his forearm. Her back was ramrod straight as she walked along by his side. Inola followed the two of them and Sandy kept pace with me, glancing between me and Sookie's back. A sidelong glance at her face revealed the same tense look that she had worn at the airport.

We stopped in front of the double doors of a guest suite on the first floor of the guest accommodations. "Here we are," the cowboy-guide stated, opening the door and motioning Sookie and the King inside. I could hear them moving about as Sandy and I stood in the hallway. The guide was showing them the various features and amenities of the room. I was relieved to know that there were two bedrooms. At least Sookie might have some privacy.

"What's her problem?" Sandy asked sarcastically jerking her head toward the open door. Inola tried to look inconspicuous as she regarded Sandy warily.

"She is uncomfortable sharing quarters with the King," I replied. Sandy rolled her eyes at my response.

"He is determined to have her." Sandy sighed. Her tone carried notes of wondering disbelief. "I'll bet you're not happy about that." There was a sneer in her tone.

"I am aware," I replied neutrally, "and it is not up to me to have an opinion one way or another." I didn't know if she was fishing for damning information or simply acting out of some misguided jealously. My understanding of Sandy's interest in me was only recently known me, but I was aware of Sandy's long standing dislike of Sookie.

"The two of you are one floor below," the young cowboy explained as he joined us in the hallway. "The elevator will take us down."

I was not happy at being so far away from Sookie, but there was little I could do about it. As we moved away, Inola stepped inside the room. I hadn't missed the meaningful look between the cowboy and Inola. I didn't what that was about, but I was relieved that Sookie would have the buffer of the young woman for a while at least.

The cowboy Were walked ahead of us and pushed the elevator button. It arrived almost immediately and we stepped inside. When the car stopped, the doors opened onto a large, rectangular common area surrounded by several pairs of doors on each side. I was surprised when our host took Sandy and me to the same door. It appeared that de Castro's idea of me escorting Sandy meant much more than just being her 'date'. I wasn't sure I was prepared for that. A glance at Sandy revealed a pleased smile on her face.

Stepping inside, our host went about showing us the amenities of our surprisingly large room: a flat screen TV in a small sitting area and kitchenette with a microwave and refrigerator stocked with both Tru Blood and Royalty Blended in a variety of blood types. The bathroom held a Jacuzzi tub and separate shower while the sleeping area sported drapes covering false windows lit by full spectrum dawn simulators and _**one**_—king sized—bed. _Damn._ It had been awhile, but the expectation of sex with Sandy, as the single accommodations seemed to imply, held little appeal. Sex with another vampire had lost most of its appeal for me after Lorena. I struggled to quell my look of repugnance. A quick glance at Sandy told me I'd failed.

"Ms. Seacrest, this is your room. Mr. Compton, yours is the room adjoining." He gestured toward a door in the sitting room. This time I just nodded, keeping my face carefully bland to hide my relief as he unlocked the door between our connected rooms. I stepped through the door with the guide and Sandy at my heels. It was clear that she was growing more agitated with each passing moment.

"Is the suite satisfactory, Mr. Compton?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," I replied hoping I didn't sound too relieved. "It's fine."

Sandy was standing behind him glaring at me, her face tight and angry. "I'm sure it's 'separateness' is the most appealing aspect of it," she muttered loudly. Her tone was acid.

The young Were looked at her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows before he caught himself and settled back into his more servile expression. "If you need anything," he said brightly, "you only need to dial zero on your room phone and it will be attended to. The Queen asks that you gather in the courtyard at 11:30 for transport to the arena. If you brought jeans you may want to change into those as you will be transported by covered wagon and buckboard."

I nodded my understanding. Sandy just emitted a disgusted sounding snort. The cowboy looked discomfited by Sandy's unhappy response. He opened his mouth, presumably to offer remedy or assistance but closed it again clearly thinking better of it.

"Well, then," he said finally, "unless there is something you need, I will leave you to settle in." He paused, waiting for a response. Receiving none, he tipped his hat and walked out of the door. As soon as the door was closed, Sandy tossed a disgusted look in my direction and walked briskly toward the door to her adjoining room.

"Sandy."

"What?" she asked bitterly. She was poised on the threshold between our rooms, but did not turn around.

"You are angry with me." I was pretty sure I knew why, but decided that her response might provide me a clue as to her level of knowledge regarding the King's takeover plans.

"I am sick to death of that fucking cunt flaunting herself in front of every Vampire she comes across." Her tone was harsh, cutting and acid. "What is it about her? Did you and de Castro pass her around during the flight? Honestly, Bill, I thought you had better taste than that."

"Did you smell _both_ of us on her?" I asked with a calm, conversational tone. Her surprise quickly morphed into curiosity.

"I mostly smelled _you_ on her. Why would the King allow that? He wants her for himself." I simply raised my eyebrows in response. "Bill?" she prompted. The less I said the more likely Sandy would let me know how much she knew.

"Honestly, Sandy, I am surprised at your questions. However, it is not my place to discuss the King's business with anyone other than the King."

Sandy's eyes narrowed as she regarded me. It seemed that something more was bothering her.

"Clearly you have some concerns," I continued. "Why don't you ask the King yourself? You are_ one_ of his lieutenants." I kept my face blank as I poked at her insecurity. The fact that she was one of three lieutenants had her rankled. Victory Madden had cured him of relying on a single Second, and de Castro enjoyed playing the three against one another to keep them all off balance and dancing in attendance on him in order to get or maintain his favor. "I'm sure he won't object to you questioning his actions and motives."

Uncertainty followed anger, but fear finally rested on her face. She knew de Castro would most certainly object to her questions, and he wouldn't hesitate to put her in her place.

"Why does she smell so much like you?" she asked.

I wasn't about to answer her question directly. I wanted her to figure it out for herself. I couldn't be sure, but it appeared that Sandy might be at best just on the periphery of de Castro's plans or at worst totally 'out of the loop'. Seating myself in a chair in the small sitting room, I relaxed into the back crossing my left ankle over my right knee. I continued to hold her gaze steadily, my raised eyebrow letting her know that I was keeping my own counsel.

"Bill…" she stopped, swallowed hard and looked at her feet, very uncharacteristic for the usually reserved and unflappable Sandy. "I've been tasked with…" She stopped again looking almost pained.

"What, Sandy? What have you been tasked with?"

"Staying close to you, reporting your movements to the King, keeping you separated from the Stackhouse woman."

"I thought as much." She seemed surprised at my response. I wondered when or if Sandy would connect the dots.

"He wants her…why would he allow _you_ to give her your blood? It doesn't make any sense."

"I am going to ask you two questions." She nodded for me to go on. "Where are we?"

"Oklahoma, the Queen's compound." Sandy let out a small sound of impatience.

"Is there anyone _here_ that might object to the King's dalliance with Sookie Stackhouse?" I waited to see if the penny would drop on her understanding. She stared at me as if the answer might appear on my forehead.

"Northman has no claim on her," she asserted reaching for the obvious first. "They are divorced. I was there, just like you. He might be angry, but he has no long has any claim."

I remained silent. Sandy was not stupid, but she obviously had been kept out of de Castro's strategizing. I raised my eyebrows at her again to prompt her to make another leap.

"The Queen?" she asked wonderingly. "Why would she care one way or another? She's got what she wants in Northman."

I kept silent. It was important that she figure this out for herself. The room was absolutely quiet as she processed the information. I saw instantly when she made a connection.

"The King wants to push Northman into doing something stupid. Into challenging him." She looked at me for confirmation.

My face retained its neutral expression. Her guess offered one possibility, but I felt sure it was not what the King had in mind. Taking out Northman was secondary to taking out Freyda. If Eric sided with Freyda, de Castro had three lieutenants who would defend their King to their final death. If Eric calculated the potential gains and sided with de Castro then he would be free of Freyda and wield substantial political clout with the King. Either way, it was a win-win for the King. Eric would fight him and the loyal members of his retinue and possibly/probably lose or join him and survive at considerable advantage.

"Well?" she said showing her frustration when I failed to confirm her supposition.

"Think bigger, Sandy."

"I know he thinks Oklahoma has set her sights on Nevada." I nodded to show her that she was on the right track. "I wondered at his insistence that Northman honor his Maker's contract. It just gives her one of his strongest fighters." I raised my eyebrows at Sandy. Another hint that she was heading in the right direction. "Unless, the King is using him to spy on Freyda…" Another glance in my direction seeking confirmation.

I just smiled in encouragement.

"The Stackhouse woman…," she mused running her thumb over her bottom lip. It was a disconcertingly human gesture. "Everything seems to revolve around her." I nodded silently. "Is he using her for leverage somehow?" she asked. "She's –" Her comment was interrupted by a knock on my door.

I rose from my chair and went to the door opening it to the same young cowboy escort. "All of the guests will be gathering in the reception courtyard in twenty minutes," he announced. I thanked him, closed the door, and turned back to Sandy.

"I suppose we'd better get ready," I said, looking at Sandy expectantly. "I need to change," I prompted when she continued to stand motionless in my room. She was staring blankly as if she was listening to some internal dialog.

"Clearly there is more going on than even I suspected," she admitted finally. "He was pretty intent that I stick close to you throughout the weekend."

"Sandy…"

"We'll talk about it later." she said abruptly before turning on her heel, retreating to her room and closing the door behind herself. She had run the gamut of emotions from angry to confused to wary to certain that we were in the midst of a dangerous game, and she that didn't know all the rules or all the players.

Finally alone, I exchanged my dress clothes and shoes for Wranglers, Lucchese ropers, and a black snap front shirt topped by a black, western-cut leather jacket. I refused to wear a cowboy hat. We might be reliving the Oklahoma Land Rush days tonight, but I refused to look like an idiot. After a quick check in the mirror, I left my room and walked next door to Sandy's room and knocked on the door.

She answered quickly, wearing a dark brown suede skirt with fringe and matching fringed jacket, a black shirt with embroidery on the yolk, boots and a cowboy hat. We both looked like drugstore cowboys, but that seemed to be what was called for during this extravagant weekend.

"Are you ready?" I asked offering my arm. No smile, just a nod as she took my arm.

We started across the common seating area toward the elevator. As I pushed the call button, Sandy asked, "What is your part in all of this?" She kept her voice low as if she were anticipating listening devices. I wouldn't doubt it.

"I'm being leveraged as well," I told her. "My continued existence for Sookie's compliance."

"Her compliance?"

The elevator door dinged open and we stepped inside.

I nodded and leaned forward as if I was going to kiss Sandy's cheek and whispered, "Her failure to comply with the King's expectations results in my ending." Playing the game, Sandy smiled as I straightened up, but her eyes revealed her shock. The door opened again and we stepped out and headed toward the gardens that we had passed through upon arrival.

"I didn't know," she said quietly glancing up at me. "I thought it strange that he insisted that I shadow you. I'm sorry."

"I'll do my best to not make your job too hard," I told her. She offered a weak smile in response as I offered my arm again. I needed Sandy on my side. Seeds had been planted about de Castro and her place in his regime and I was willing to exploit her insecurity. Her doubts about her King along with any regard she held for me might play in my favor.

The walk across the courtyard was a short one. We passed under the arches into the interior reception room and through it to a circular drive out front. Once outside we were greeted by a hubbub of activity as Wranglers helped the Queen's guests board covered wagons, buckboards, various two and four seat horse drawn carriages, and a couple of stage coaches. A few guests were on horseback. I looked around for the King, Sookie, and Pam.

"They're over there."

I looked in the direction that Sandy pointed. The King was handing Sookie into a two-seater buggy, but Pam was nowhere to be seen. It appeared that the King was going to drive the buggy himself. As Sookie sat down, I had a chance to look at her face. Her expression was fixed with that same determined, if slightly terrified expression, but at least she didn't appear to be any more stressed than she had earlier. Only because I knew Sookie and the circumstances under which she was operating that I was able to see that her frequent smiles to the King, the Wranglers, and to the others who approached her were false. They disappeared quickly once the attention was off of her.

Sandy and I were directed to a stagecoach where we took our seats inside with de Castro's two other lieutenants: Rodrigo Guadarama and Vito Benenati. Rod and Vito had been Sheriffs under de Castro, but each had been elevated to lieutenant alongside Sandy after Madden's demise. She had been with de Castro longer, but together they had the cunning and strategic skills that the King had always prized in Victor Madden. De Castro depended on Sandy for her technology and business skills and her ability to interface with humans, but her brief hundred and five years as a Vampire left her wanting in the areas of physical strength, calculation, and cunning. In the human world, she would be a sought after executive assistant, but would likely never rise to the level of CEO.

Inside the stagecoach, Rod and Vito treated both Sandy and me to respectful nods, but were otherwise silent. Gradually, the sound and commotion of getting Vampires and their pets and companions parceled out among the various modes of transportation subsided. Our coach lurched forward as our driver pulled us into line with the other wagons. The Wagon Master, called _'Wagons Ho'_ and we began to move through the windy chill of the winter evening.

I'd ridden in horse drawn transportation many times in both my human life and my early Vampire life, but I had never before appreciated modern transportation more than I did now. The stagecoach lurched along swaying broadly with each turn throwing the occupants inside against each other repeatedly. Rod and Vito were able to reduce their knocking about by holding on to the straps near the windows, but Sandy found it difficult to keep her seat on the smooth leather and was frequently smashed up against my side. She smiled gratefully at me when I took her arm and folded it into mine to steady her against the rocking of the coach. Fortunately we didn't have far to go as the temporary arena set up for the evening's entertainment was only four miles from the compound.

I reached out through the blood connection with Sookie in an effort to get a general impression of her mood. No strong emotion came through, just a weak feeling of weariness. De Castro had been very solicitous of her comfort as I watched him hand her up into the carriage and tuck a blanket over her lap and around her legs. Her brief smile and gaze into the distance watching the hubbub of loading the wagons had told me that she was just going through the expected motions of what would surely be a long night and a long weekend for her both physically and emotionally. There were so many variables to our situation. I could only image that she had given up worrying about 'what ifs' to focus on coping with whatever was set before her. I could only imagine the level of heartbreak she was experiencing.

We had been traveling for about fifteen minutes when a fast moving rider, clad in all black on a black horse came streaking past us on my side of the coach. In less than a blink of an eye another horse and rider dashed by on the other side. This one was dressed in white astride a white horse, the straps of the reigns whipping furiously back and forth over the horse's withers, the rider's heels digging furiously into the beast's flanks.

A wave of grief rippled lightly across my consciousness. It was Sookie. I couldn't be sure, but I suspected that the riders were Eric and Freyda racing each other to the front of the procession. I supposed that I would find out once we reached our destination. Since we were traveling at a brisk pace, I wouldn't have to wait long to find out. Soon enough we came to a stop and another of the apparently many wranglers in Freyda's employ opened the coach door. I stepped out first, followed by Sandy, Rod and Vito. We joined the line of guests to enter the arena. My gaze immediately found Sookie. I watched as she and de Castro made their way toward Sandy and me.

"Quite a showing Oklahoma is putting on wouldn't you say, Bill?" The King was charmingly jovial as we shuffled along with the crowd entering the narrow entry into the arena. "Freyda does love her pageantry," he noted wryly. His comment didn't seem to call for a reply, so I just inclined my head in agreement.

Sookie stood stiffly next to him. It was the first time that he hadn't had his hands on her in public since before we'd left the plane. She caught my eye and rolled hers as her mouth flattened into a hard line. Inwardly I breathed a small sigh of relief. She was playing the part of dutiful pet, but _my_ Sookie—the feisty, refusing to be cowed Sookie—was still inside that outwardly servile pet. It took everything I had to keep a sarcastic smirk off my face when he pulled her to his side once again. Remembering her words as I left her in the airplane lavatory, de Castro would do well to watch his back around her. I was sure he didn't completely understand what she was capable of.

Eventually, we entered the arena and were shown to our seats. The King entered the first row of box seats about a third of the way up the tiered seats followed by Sookie, then me, then Sandy. As we settled into our seats, I noticed that Sookie had dropped her gloves between our two seats. I reached down to retrieve them when I spotted a tiny scrap of paper lying further under her seat. I scooped it up and palmed into my left hand while handing her the gloves with my right.

"Thanks, Bill." she said. At her words King glanced at the two of us with a look of suspicion. Sookie turned her attention to the arena and began to put her gloves back on. The King's eyes slid back and forth between Sookie as he stared at me with unspoken warning. In a gesture of understanding and submission, I broke the stare first and turned my attention the arena.

I wish I could say I was shocked at her audacity, but it would be a lie. The note tugged viciously at my curiosity as I slipped it into my left jacket pocket. Casting a sidelong glance at Sandy, I was relieved to see that she was distracted by the beginning of the show.

We had an excellent view of the proceedings, which I understood to be a display of Cherokee riding skills, as well as, their skills as warriors and hunters. I wondered if Avinash would show off his skills with a Cherokee war hatchet. I hoped for some technical error with the hatchet ending up buried in de Castro's chest.

Once the crowd was settled, the lights were lowered. Sookie let out a small gasp. From the darkened edge of the arena, two riders galloped to the center of the ring to be illuminated by a spotlight.

Eric and Freyda.

As expected, Eric was astride a coal black Arabian. In black leather from shoulder to toe, it was hard to tell where the horse ended and Eric began. His pale skin and blond hair were the only relief in his midnight appearance. In contrast, Freyda was glowing in white: soft looking leather pants, white leather jacket, white boots and white hat atop her dark hair. They were stunning opposites. Eric's horse reared magnificently and Freyda's danced nervously as an announcer greeted the audience:

_Her Majesty, Queen Freyda of Oklahoma and her betrothed Eric Northman, __of Louisiana welcome you all to a display of the culture, customs and history of the Cherokee Indians of the great state of Oklahoma._

Sookie leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on Eric as they rode to an opening in the center rail of the arena seating and dismounted. As their horses were taken away, they took their seats, side by side in the Queen's box to watch the spectacle. A young girl in a traditional Cherokee Tear dress came forward to offer goblets of blood to both of them. Freyda took one glass off of the tray and offered it to Eric. Smiling as he took it from her hand, she reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear letting her hand trail casually down his cheek before turning to take the second proffered glass.

A brief glance to my left revealed a King looking furious as tears coursed silently down Sookie's cheeks. She'd missed nothing of his entrance or the show of obvious affection between Eric and Freyda. There was an odd burning sensation in my eyes as her nearness and our connection through the small amount of blood I'd given her allowed her grief to resonate through me.

"Stop it!" de Castro hissed.

Looking away, I was only able to watch from the corner of my eye. Sookie nodded silently and raised her gloved hand to wipe the tears away.

"Don't let it happen again," was the King's warning.

Sookie winced as he grasped her left hand tightly in his and made a show of pulling her glove off. He raised her hand to his lips before pulling it across the armrest to rest on his thigh placing it uncomfortably close to his crotch. Sookie's revulsion spiked through me making my stomach churn. Only the fear of leaving her completely alone and friendless in this hostile environment kept me from challenging the bastard.

Suddenly, I felt Sandy's hand cover mine as it gripped the armrest between us, her thumbnail dug sharply into the web of flesh between my thumb and forefinger. The small pinching pain was just enough to make the livid, blinding haze of anger and revulsion lift slightly. I was startled to find that I had slid slightly forward in my seat and angled myself toward the King and Sookie. I sat back in my seat, working frantically to repress my anger and revulsion at the King's behavior. A look at Sandy told me I had been dangerously close to making a fatal error. I closed my eyes and worked to distract myself by pulling in a deep breath. When I opened my eyes again, Sandy's face had relaxed and she nodded slightly in relieved approval.

As the echo of the announcer's words died, more than a dozen Indians on horseback thundered into the arena led by the imposing Avinash, shirtless in leather breeches and war paint and mounted bareback on a sand-colored Mustang with a black mane and tail. He led the fast moving warriors toward targets at the opposite end of the arena. As they approached the targets at a gallop, the warriors threw their war hatchets hitting the targets unerringly before wheeling away to race toward the other end of the arena. This was followed by other demonstrations of deadly accuracy with bow and arrow and blow darts.

Each demonstration had been accompanied by explanatory narration from the announcer. Under normal circumstances Sookie would have been fascinated, but I was not sure how much of it she actually saw. Sidelong glances showed me that her eyes were trained on the couple five rows ahead of us. She watched as their heads bowed in conversation, Eric's laughter at something amusing in Freyda's comments, their applause at the skillful display of Avinash and his 'braves'. Sookie seemed to flinch each time Freyda reached to touch Eric on his arm, his hand or to caress his thigh. To a casual observer, they were a couple in love. However, upon closer examination all the touching had been initiated by Freyda. Not once did I see Eric reach to touch her voluntarily. I wondered if Sookie noticed.

The last event was a demonstration of buffalo hunting as practiced by the Plains Indians. Three American bison were herded at a gallop into the arena with the Indian warriors in hot pursuit. Again, Avinash led the braves as they swiftly felled the bison with arrows while riding a full gallop. The huge animals bellowed loudly as they fell to the ground, their blood flowing to stain the sawdust of the arena. Sookie's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes were wide with anguished disgust at the slaughter of the animals. Over the dull pounding of horses' hooves and the war cries of the warriors, the narrator droned on about the importance of bison to the culture of the plains Indians.

Avinash and two braves separated from the others as they began to gut the bison where they lay. They rode forward to make a presentation to Freyda and Eric. After a moment, Freyda turned to the crowd to display a buffalo robe made from previously harvested bison skin, while Eric raised a Cherokee throwing axe, the handle wrapped in leather and ornamented with beading and eagle's feathers. Each gift was meant to represent elements of Cherokee culture and symbolize traditional roles in a marriage: homemaker and warrior. Had they been a human couple, it might have been touching. In reality, it was nothing more than a farcical nod to Freyda's vanity and pretentions.

With the show at an end, Freyda's and Eric's horses were brought to them. We remained seated until they were on horseback and galloped from the arena. With de Castro distracted by the Vampire conversing with him to his other side, I took Sookie's hand. She met my eyes. I knew what Freyda's display had cost her. I gave her hand a quick squeeze and then released it.

"Thank you," she moved her lips, but made no sound.

The lights in the arena came on again. We then rose to begin filing out of the arena toward our respective wagons, buggies, and coaches. Sandy walked along side me maintaining the silence she'd had throughout the slightly more than hour long performance. Ahead of us, Sookie walked with de Castro. Her stiff posture showed her efforts to keep as much distance between them as possible given the possessive way he was holding on to her.

De Castro's behavior was more human than Vampire. He clutched at Sookie much like the math nerd might hold on to the cheerleader at the Prom; like he couldn't believe his luck. If his intention was to draw notice by this ostentatious show of possession, he succeeded. The King's and Sookie's progress was watched with rapt attention by Pam who was standing next to the four-seat open carriage in which she had arrived. She watched as the King handed Sookie up into their two-seater smoothing the robe over her knees. Once he climbed into his buggy and out of sight, Pam's eyes swung in my direction, her eyebrows raised and a look of stunned confusion on her face. Her head tilted slightly to one side in question. I could only shake my head slightly in response. I had no doubt that Eric would hear about what she had observed before he went to rest. How he would react was anyone's guess.

"What are you looking at?" Sandy asked.

I had been so lost in thought I had forgotten that she was at my side. It was time for me to return to my duty of attentive 'date'. "I was acknowledging Pam Ravenscroft," I replied just as we reached our stagecoach. Rod and Vito were already inside, thus squelching any further conversation during the uneventful ride back to the compound.

Once back at the compound we were directed toward a large reception area in one of the out buildings where we were treated to displays of Cherokee and Plains Indians handicrafts as we made our way to the reception which would be the last event of the night. Like the show at the arena, the reception was dominated by Vampires. The only non-Vampire guests present were the most important human members of a Vampire's retinue or highly coveted business associates. It was a testimony to how far Vampires had been accepted into mainstream society that humans could feel comfortable in a setting strongly outnumbered by Vampires.

The throng inside the reception area grew steadily as more and more of the guests returned from the arena. The buzz of conversation and the clink of glasses filled with Royalty Blended and cocktails for the human guests combined with the music of a string quartet created a low din of noise. I looked for Sookie and de Castro.

"They are this way," Sandy said as she tugged on my arm. "The King wants us to stay close by to present a united front." She led me through the throng to the King's side. One glance at the resignation on Sookie's face told me that she understood what was happening: she was chum in a pool of sharks. De Castro's already ostentatious show of possession was only going to ratchet up from here.

"Ah, there you are, Bill, Sandy," the King said expansively. "Now that we are all here, let me introduce you to the members of my retinue, Sookie."

De Castro introduced each of them in turn starting with Rod and Vito who were flanking him and Sookie. Next came the other Sheriffs of Louisiana who had come to their positions after de Castro's takeover: Herbert Zavier, Area 3; Royce Hoyt, Area 2; Renard Macon, the Sheriff of Area 1 in New Orleans; and Gisa Schultze of Area 4, the newest and youngest Sheriff. Next was Red Rita, Castro's appointed Regent in Arkansas. She'd left all of her Sheriffs behind, but was accompanied by her Second, Jeremy Davis.

"And of course, you know Pam Ravenscroft, the new Sheriff of Area 5." The King finished nodding toward Eric's child. Sookie offered each a respectful nod and a falsely bright smile. With the exception of Gisa, each of them reciprocated with mostly non-smiling nods of their own.

De Castro had selected his Louisana Sheriff's for their relative talents. Together they represented interesting cultural diversity. Xavier was a Basque and the oldest at three hundred ten years, Pam and Royce Hoyt were Brits and about the same age, Renard Macon (formerly Maquon) was a Frenchman and about two hundred fifty years old, and last was Gisa Schultz, from Germany. In another time, another place, and under different circumstances, I would like to have known Gisa better. She was a stunning beauty with blond hair, a beautiful figure, and uncharacteristically sweet for a Vampire.

Red Rita had been turned in her late thirties in Ireland at the beginning of the Irish potato famine. She was not a delicate beauty, but a stunning one with green eyes and a mane of wavy red hair that she wore loose and cascading down her back. Her second, Jeremy Davis was also Irish and fiercely loyal to Rita. His eyes were constantly scanning the crowd as he never strayed more than a few feet from her side.

De Castro was notoriously chauvinistic and it showed in his treatment of Sandy and Gisa. I'd always wondered at his choice of Rita to whom he was only marginally less condescending. She was a formidable Vampire who carried her respect for the King lightly. It would be interesting to see her reaction to his often dismissive behavior of the female members of his retinue.

Turning to speak to his lieutenants, de Castro finally let go of the near death grip he'd maintained on Sookie's arm or around her waist. By the tiniest degrees Sookie was able to put a little distance between herself and de Castro. She was still in the circle of his retinue as he made conversation with his lieutenants, but she'd managed to give herself a little breathing room by moving behind de Castro and a little closer to Pam. It was a move I wish she hadn't made.

Scenting Sookie, Pam's eyes flew wide, her chin darted up, and her nostrils flared. She looked like a deer scenting the air for predators. She picked up the scent of my blood on Sookie. Her eyes snapped to mine as she fixed me with a pointed, angry glare. The only thing that kept her reaction from de Castro's notice was her position behind him. I had no doubt that she wanted an explanation.

Sookie sensed what was going on and gently closed her hand around Pam's wrist. Pam looked down, first at her wrist then into Sookie's eyes. A very faint movement of Sookie's head, more a flinch than a nod, seemed to be enough to cause Pam to calm down slightly. If I needed to breathe, I would have heaved a sigh of relief. It would have been short lived however. Sookie's eyes grew wide with alarm as she spotted something over my shoulder. I started to turn around, but quickly realized I didn't need to.

"You're Majesty," Eric intoned. "It is a pleasure to see you here."

"Eric!" the King exclaimed heartily. "It is a pleasure to _be_ here. You can see we have turned out a large number from my kingdom to witness and celebrate your pledging." The King looked to his left expecting Sookie to be there. When she wasn't he turned round quickly to see her standing behind him and next to Pam.

"So it seems." Eric's demeanor was generally unsmiling as his eyes roamed from person to person in the group. "You have the largest contingent here," he acknowledged.

"You know everyone here," the King said as he pulled Sookie to his side, "including the delightful Miss Stackhouse."

Eric's eyes lit on Sookie and rested there as he inclined his head in her direction. His lingering gaze also took in the possessive drape of the King's arm around her shoulders and the way that his grip hugged her closely to his body. His face maintained its careful calm, but his body showed the slightest stiffening as he regarded the pair.

The King's prideful smirk clearly communicated his intended message: _**'Mine.**__'_

A fragile silence encircled us.

Sookie stood stiffly in the King's embrace, her slightly eyes downcast to hide the emotions raging within her. She would not look directly at Eric fearful that any overt action on her part would most certainly precipitate disastrous consequences for herself, for me, for Eric. The King had known what he was doing when he chose Sookie to be the fulcrum on which his plans would pivot. He'd stacked the deck in his favor in more ways than one.

The awkward stillness was broken by the entrance of another key player. "King de Castro," Freyda drawled, "how good of you to come and bring _so many_ of your retinue." Both her smile and her tone were falsely welcoming. "I do believe that this is the first time I have seen all of you together. How delightful." She looped her arm through Eric's and plastered herself to his side as she surveyed our assembled group. "I know Eric is pleased to have so many of his _'family'_ here to witness the pledging. Aren't you darling?"

Eric glanced down at Freyda. The slightly removed, neutral look never left his face even as he turned it back to us, careful to not let his eyes stray toward Sookie. "I am pleased to welcome my King and his retinue," was his only comment; his tone as flat and expressionless as his face.

"Sookie, how pleasant to see you again," Freyda greeted her with a false brightness to her tone. "It looks like King de Castro is taking _very_ good care of his most prized asset." Making her perusal of Sookie's position at the King's side obvious, she continued, "It seems the King has overcome his annoyance at you. What a lovely couple you make." Her raised eyebrows and smirking grin communicated her disdain for Sookie

Playing the part of the well trained pet, Sookie glanced at de Castro, silently asking permission to speak. He nodded his assent. "Thank you for inviting me, you're Majesty," Sookie replied nodding her head deferentially. A small tight smile lay on her lips without making the trip to her eyes. She was in the middle of a shit storm and until a better option presented itself, she was determined to play her part hoping it would get us out alive. Throughout the entire exchange, de Castro's face had carried a gleeful smile.

"Sookie and I have been having a delightful time together," the King stated. "She is working exclusively for me and she has proven her worth on several occasions." This was the first volley in de Castro's campaign to use Sookie to force Freyda's hand.

"_Working_—for you." Freyda drew out. Her sarcastic tone and languid drawl were intended to goad Sookie into some kind of reaction. "To hear Eric tell it she has _many_ talents. Surely you will let me borrow her." Freyda smiled charmingly. "For a healthy fee, of course."

The only reaction that Freyda got from her intentional knifing and innuendo was a small huff and a curl of Sookie's lip. Otherwise she was silent in de Castro's possessive grip. Eric had glared at Freyda throughout the entire exchange, his hands flexing as if he wanted to put them around Freyda's throat.

"Oh, I plan to keep her busy," he answered while pulling Sookie even closer to his side, "on many, _many_ different levels." De Castro's leering gaze at Sookie caused the smallest of reactions in Eric: he flinched. Freyda shot an annoyed glance at him. Eric's reaction to the King's implications caused her face to harden. She wasn't accustomed to being overlooked, supplanted or denied by anyone.

Sensing Freyda's growing anger and wanting to get her away from Sookie, Eric took Freyda's hand. "We need to greet our other guests," he urged. "You'll excuse us, you're Majesty?" The King nodded his assent almost pityingly.

"Of course, darling." Freyda' tore her eyes away from the intertwined couple, her face smoothing out as she looked up at Eric. Her dark hair to his blond, her delicate, petite frame to his tall warrior's body, his stillness to her animation made them a striking couple. If they were ever truly allied they would be formidable. "You're Majesty," Freyda nodded her head respectfully as Eric led her away.

"That went well," the King exulted quietly. "First shot across the bow." It was as if he was thinking aloud. No one in the group made any comment in reply or acknowledgement.

Sookie's confused gaze met mine. Like me, she wondered at his willingness to have Pam over hear his comment. It could only mean that he believed that Eric was still firmly in his camp. I was desperate to read what was on the note Sookie had so recklessly passed to me.

"I think we've met our obligations here for tonight," the King cheerfully. "Miss Stackhouse and I are ready to retire for the evening. You'll excuse us." His pronouncement brought a round of assenting head nods from the assembled members of his retinue.

He turned and guided Sookie out of the reception hall in the direction of the guest accommodations leaving us standing in a knot. Without the King to keep the conversation going, we drifted apart in small groups. Rod and Vito paired off and wandered to find another drink. Herbert and Royce excused themselves back to their respective rooms while Gisa and Renard stepped out to the gardens. That left Pam, Sandy, and me standing awkwardly in the din of noise coming from the assembled group and the string ensemble playing selections from Rogers' and Hammerstein's _Oklahoma_.

"Sandy, why don't you come with me?" Pam said suddenly, a cheerful smile on her face.

"What for?" Sandy asked with her suspicion clearly evident.

"Girl talk. What are you wearing to the party tomorrow night?" Pam asked brightly.

"A dress," Sandy replied sharply. "What's going on?" She and Pam had had little contact with one another except during her brief stint as de Castro's go-between after the take-over. She'd endured Pam's sarcastic comments, Eric's disdain, and Madden's outright disrespect before de Castro had pulled her back to Nevada. The reason for Pam's sudden desire for 'girl talk' walked up next to me. Stan Davis.

"You're Majesty." All three of us acknowledged Stan with a slight bow from the waist.

"Pam, Sandy, Bill. Nice to see you again," King Davis acknowledged the three of us with what Sookie called the 'Vampire nod'. "Bill, I wondered if I might have a word with you."

"Of course, you're Majesty." Stan Davis looked expectantly at both Pam and Sandy.

"It was a pleasure to see you again, you're Majesty," Pam said politely as she made a half turn to leave.

Sandy said nothing and continued to stand stubbornly at my side. The King inclined his head in Sandy's direction and fixed her with a pointed stare.

"Sandy, will you join me?" Pam encouraged.

"You're Majesty, if you don't mind…" Sandy began. She was clearly torn between her assignment to stay glued to me, but she also feared disrespecting a powerful King.

"I do mind," the King responded firmly. "I'd like to discuss a personal matter with Mr. Compton. Surely your King would extend that courtesy to a fellow monarch." He challenged Sandy with a lift of his eyebrows.

"You're Majesty, my King—" Sandy started again before being cut off by the King. Her face was a study in conflicted misery.

"Sheriff Ravenscroft, do you have your phone?" the King of Texas asked cutting Sandy off.

"Yes, sir," Pam responded quickly.

"Please call your King and clear my conversation with Mr. Compton." King Davis' voice had lowered to a pleasant, almost conversational tone while he continued to stare Sandy down. Sandy looked nearly frantic as Pam removed her phone from her purse and began to scroll slowly through her contacts. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"Wait!" Sandy's voice was shrill with panic. "I apologize. If you'll excuse me, you're Majesty. Bill." She nodded at me, but bowed deeply from her waist toward the King before turning to walk at Vampire speed out of the reception hall. Pam's face carried a look of smug satisfaction as she smiled at Stan Davis and turned to leave.

"Thank you, Sheriff Ravenscroft," the King called after her with a smile and a little bow of his own.

"Anytime." Pam tossed over her shoulder as she left the King and me alone.

"Quite a show Oklahoma is staging for the pledging, eh Bill?"

"Yes, sir," I agreed. A quick glance showed that no one was in close earshot. The noise from the guests would cover a low conversation between the two of us.

"I arrived too late for the earlier festivities. How were they?"

"Very interesting. Her Majesty has some skilled warriors who are very adept with bow and arrow, war hatchets, and blow dart. They would have made formidable foes for the early settlers."

"I can imagine. How many were in the show?"

"Twenty-two on horseback. Another twenty or so in the wings."

"All Vampire?"

"Yes." Davis' questioning was cut short by the arrival of Freyda and Eric.

"King Davis!" Freyda said laughingly. "I was beginning to worry about you since you didn't arrive in time to attend our little welcoming event."

"I apologize for my tardiness. Last minute business claimed my immediate attention," Davis explained.

"Well you're here now," she enthused. "Oh my, you look thirsty. We have Royalty Blended on tap and of course a variety of very willing donors." She swept her hand toward the young women in red Cherokee Tear Dresses and the young men attired in traditional ribbon shirts mingling among the crowd. Eric stood silently behind only inclining his head in respectful acknowledgement of the King of Texas.

"I fed before I left Texas. I'm fine, thank you," he reassured her before focusing on Eric. "How are you Sheriff Northman?"

"It's just Eric now you're Majesty. My child, Pam Ravenscroft, has assumed my old position in Louisiana."

"Ahh," the King intoned, "it's hard for me to think of you as anything other than Sheriff Northman. That is how I have always known you, first under Sophie Ann and now under King de Castro." Davis paused and focused on Freyda as he made his next comment. "I always admired your loyalty, Eric."

"Thank you, you're Majesty."

Freyda's face had clouded up during the pleasant little interchange between the former Sheriff and the current King of Texas. "Eric will have a new home and new responsibilities," Freyda said with a little edginess in her tone. "His title will be King Consort, and he will rule by my side. Quite a promotion wouldn't you say?"

"Absolutely, you're Majesty." Davis hastened to smooth her ruffled feelings, but there was a chuckle in his tone. "One that should greatly benefit Oklahoma. You are _both_ to be congratulated. Freyda, you for having the foresight to choose such a talented and strategic tactician and helpmate, and Eric, you for laying claim to such a charming and beautiful woman." He waited, gauging Freyda's reaction. She'd always prided herself on her political acumen and ability to rule Oklahoma singlehandedly. Now, Stan Davis was insinuating that she could do it only with Eric's assistance. He had reduced her to the _'little woman'_ in Eric's commanding presence.

"Eric and I will rule as _one_," she insisted, with slightly shrill petulance.

"Of _course_," Davis replied soothingly, but his patronizing tone implied raging skepticism.

Freyda's face contorted as she prepared some cutting remark.

"Freyda," Eric cut her off, "it's getting late. Perhaps we should retire for the evening." She nodded sharply as her face was contorted with irritation at Eric's 'handling' her.

"King Davis, Eric and I must greet a few more people before we retire. Please make yourself at home. Let my stewards know if you need anything." Her comments had been barked out like orders rather than words of welcome. She stalked away. For the first time since our arrival Eric's face registered some little flicker of emotion: a lifted eyebrow and a smirk aimed at Davis. I was favored with a tilt of his head and a brief, questioning gaze before he walked away.

"Tugging on Superman's cape, you're Majesty?" I asked.

"Just priming the pump by tweaking a woman's vanity," he replied sardonically.

"Some might say that's the same thing," I said.

"Indeed they might. Rest well, Bill."

As he turned to walk away, I could only wonder what the next three days would bring. I felt as if I was holding my breath waiting for the spark that would ignite the explosion in Oklahoma. I just hoped that Sookie wouldn't be caught in the blowback.


	21. Chapter 21: Three Conversations

**Chapter 21: Three Conversations**

**AN:** Thanks so much for both your patience between updates and for the reviews that you leave. I really do appreciate anyone who reads this story. Even if I never write another word after this story is complete, you have helped me fulfill a long held dream. Thank you also to those of you who left kind comments and inquiries into my husband's health. He's doing okay.

In spite of her hectic schedule and varied demands, **Joyindenver** is still hanging in as my ever patient beta. I appreciate you more than I can ever adequately say, Chica. Thank you.

Charlaine Harris owns the names you recognize, Alan Ball interprets her work, and I just like to play in her playground. Thank you Ms. Harris.

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><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

"_Tugging on Superman's cape, your Majesty?" I asked. _

"_Just priming the pump by tweaking a woman's vanity," he replied sardonically._

"_Some might say that's the same thing," I said._

"_Indeed they might. Rest well, Bill." _

_As he turned to walk away, I could only wonder what the next three days would bring. I felt as if I was holding my breath waiting for the spark that would ignite the explosion in Oklahoma. I just hoped that Sookie wouldn't be caught in the blowback._

**Thursday night continued...**

Watching Stan Davis' retreating back and feeling the weight of Sookie's note in my pocket I needed to distract myself until I felt safe leaving the ballroom. In what was becoming an increasingly charged atmosphere and certain that de Castro's delegation was being watched, I decided that it wouldn't be a good idea to follow Stan too closely or open Sookie's note where I might be seen or interrupted.

Knowing also that I couldn't just stand around alone, I scanned the room and spotted Red Rita talking to her second, Jeremy Davis. She was imposing as a woman and as a Vampire. While she lacked the softness of a classic beauty, she was the very definition of _striking_: tall, slender, possessed of porcelain skin, high cheek bones and a strong jaw line making her narrow, angular face remarkable. Her head was crowned with long, wavy red hair resembling red silk shot with gold. It rose thick and full from her crown to tumble down her back in heavy glossy waves. She was no empty headed beauty. Rita had shown herself to be a strong, capable leader who'd earned the trust and devotion of her subjects. It wasn't too hard to imagine her as a fierce Celtic woman sitting astride a mighty horse and charging into battle.

Since her appointment, I'd gotten the feeling that she was not terribly happy with de Castro's leadership and she seemed to wear her loyalties lightly. Deciding that I needed to feel her out, I worked my way through the crowd in her direction. Now might be a good time to get a feel for where _her_ allegiances lay. "Rita. Jeremy," I greeted them. Jeremy had watched my progress across the ballroom and Rita turned just as I reached them.

"Bill." She nodded in return.

"How are things in Arkansas?" I asked.

"About the same as Louisiana, I would imagine." Rita seemed disinclined to offer any elaboration. I suspected that she was feeling me out as well. Innate Vampire suspicion mixed with the political precariousness of our situation had us all on edge. Her reticence was calculated and smart.

"Has the King spoken of anyone to take Madden's place?" Rita asked smirking slightly.

"Not to me," I answered truthfully.

"You seem the logical choice." Her brilliant green eyes seemed to take my measure as she looked at me: was I a friend or a foe? Loyal or looking for an out? With de Castro or against him?

I couldn't decide if she actually believed that I was the logical choice or if she was just dip-sticking my loyalty. "Politics have never interested me," I said truthfully, "Vampire politics least of all." The sharp tilt of her pale eyebrows communicated her skepticism.

"Oh come now, Bill," she scoffed. "You make regular trips to Las Vegas. Sandy follows you around like a besotted maiden. Tell me that you are not in the King's hip pocket." She watched for my reaction. It was not so much what she said as her tone that made me wonder about her loyalties. She sounded disgusted and scornful.

"I work for the King. He uses my database and seeks my advice on matters of business. I am not involved in matters of State." Another skeptical stare. "Speak carefully, Rita. Listening ears abound," I cautioned softly. Rita showed no reaction to my warning, but Jeremy issued a low growl and shouldered his body between me and Rita.

"Stand down, Jeremy," she soothed. "Bill and I are just feeling each other out." I was treated to a small smile and I offered her one in return. "And just what do _**your**_ ears hear?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The sound of thunder," I replied vaguely. At that she smiled a little more broadly.

I just hoped that my advance research into Rita and her administration of Arkansas had been correct. She shared Eric's disdain for being overseen. With Arkansas in poor shape from Peter Threadgill's mismanagement and Sophie Anne's inability to do much with the state before she was ended, Rita had had a great deal of work on her hands. De Castro had demanded the same level of tribute from Arkansas as he did from Louisiana and every plan she'd devised required approval by him before it could be enacted. From what I had been able to find out, Rita had chafed against de Castro's micromanagement.

"I love a good storm myself," she said lightly. "The air smells so much better afterward."

"They can also destroy," I replied.

"Absolutely," she agreed, "but after the storm comes the calm…or so I've heard."

"Is anything _ever_ calm among our kind?" I asked cynically.

"Who knows?" she speculated with a shrug of her shoulder. "Maybe one day." She looked at me with a strange intensity. "We're out now. We can't keep doing the _same_ things in the _same_ ways. We have _seize_ the opportunities _whenever_ they present themselves." Each sentence had been spoken slowly, carefully, passionately, as if each was a message that encouraged reading between the lines.

Rita's head cocked to one side when I offered no immediate response. She was testing me. Jeremy's expression seemed to say that my continued existence depended on my reaction to her comments. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting from Rita, but this certainly hadn't been it. In some ways, I was reminded of Eric's optimism and pragmatism. Her comments however, were near to direct criticism of de Castro's leadership and a call for change. Dangerous words for a King's appointed Regent.

"I agree," was the best I could muster while doing my best not to stammer with surprise. Unless I'd misread her, it seemed that she was not only in favor of a regime change, she was also willing to risk her position and possibly her existence to make it happen. Remembering how closely she'd worked with Eric shortly after her appointment as de Castro's Regent in Arkansas, I wondered what she knew and who she was supporting. However, this was not the place to explore the possibilities. Certainly not out loud.

My mind filled the silence with the buzz of options: had Rita been in contact with Eric? With Davis? Was she working on her own? Did I misread her? I looked at her again to see a slightly bemused look on her face.

"Ease up, Bill," she chuckled softly. "If you breathed, you'd be hyperventilating. I can practically see the chess pieces sliding around in your brain. We're here to have _fun_." Rolling her eyes before scanning the room, she asked, "By the way where is the _happy _couple?" Her tone dripped sarcasm as she made a slight gagging noise on the word 'happy.'

I followed her gaze around the room. Apparently Eric and Freyda had retired for the day as they were nowhere to be found. The few remaining Vampires were standing around in small groups. Between Sookie's note, Rita's enigmatic comments, Stan Davis' appearance and Sandy's apparent exclusion from de Castro's inner circle, I had a lot to think about, and I needed to do it soon. I reached into my pocket and ran my fingers over Sookie's note. I really needed to get out of here.

"It is good to see you again, Rita," I said nodding to the tall redhead. "Jeremy." The narrowed eyes and curt tilt of his head told me that I was not in his circle of friends. His fierce loyalty to Rita was well known. "If you will excuse me, I will go to my rest."

"We should all excuse ourselves, I think," Rita announced languidly. "It's going to be a very long weekend and we may all be weary before it's over." Rita tucked her hand into Jeremy's offered arm. "Good day, Bill. Rest well." As Rita and Jeremy made their exit I looked around. The ballroom was nearly empty now and the human staff was waiting in the wings to begin cleaning and setting up for tomorrow evening's formal cocktail reception.

Once outside, my thoughts turned to the note that had been burning a hole in my pocket since I picked it up. My hand slipped into my left pocket once again to feel the tiny scrap of paper that seemed to have taken on a life of its own. I quickened my step to cross the spacious courtyard and was almost to the exterior door of the guests' quarters when I felt myself being roughly grabbed from behind, lifted from the ground and pulled into the shadows of the building. My fangs snapped down as I fought the attacker's vice-like grip. I had an idea who it was and found myself growing furious. I wouldn't go down easily.

A strong forearm pressed rigidly across my throat and my left arm was pulled up roughly behind my back almost the point of dislocation. I clawed at the arm digging into my throat with my free hand, but it had little effect other than to elicit an nasty chuckle from my attacker. I was propelled forward until my body was slammed into the rough logs that made up the exterior wall. Blood flooded my mouth from my fangs having cut nearly through my tongue. I managed to turn my head to the side in just enough time to keep my nose from being shattered, but it didn't save my cheek bone. Judging from the intense pain and crunching sound, it was broken. The pain fueled my rising fury.

"Why does Sookie stink of your blood?" Eric's low growl directly in my left ear carried all the menace of his thousand years.

I refused to be cowed by his aggressiveness and spat the blood from my mouth at his feet. "Put me down," I demanded as the pain from my ruined cheek radiated across my face. Eric's arm tightened around my throat as my feet dangled just off of the ground. His knee pressed harder into the small of my back in response.

"I will rip your head off if you don't answer me _**now**_," he growled again.

"Put—me—down," I choked out, my jaw tight with fury.

His grip released suddenly. I dropped to the ground, my feet hitting the dirt hard. Something wild and terrible cracked open inside me. Instinct fueled by weeks of pent up anger and impotence roared through me. Without thinking I spun to my left and slammed my left fist into the side of Eric's face. His head snapped back sharply. Capitalizing on momentum, I twisted around landing a roundhouse kick to his gut. He staggered. Before he could react, I struck again. My right leg swept behind his sending him crashing to the ground.

Almost faster than could be seen, Eric was back on his feet in a crouch ready to come at me. His fangs were fully down. His eyes nearly glowed with rage. As often and as bitterly as we had dealt with one another it had never been physical. Without the advantage of surprise, I knew my chances against him were slim, but I'd had enough. Already crouched into a stance matching his, I fully expected that he would end me. Except for Sookie, I don't think I would have cared.

The rising wind howled through the tops of the trees. Neither of us flinched as Eric and I faced off. The adrenalin-like potency of my venom thundered through me. I awaited his next move. Suddenly, _surprisingly,_ he straightened up and retracted his fangs. For a fraction of a second I hesitated. His trademark smirk settled on his face. Warily, I took up a neutral stance.

"Well played, Bill," he said with a bemused expression. "You surprise me." He dusted off the seat of his pants and straightened his cuffs. "What do you have to tell me?" His tone hardened even as he seemed to concentrate on relaxing his body into studied insouciance.

"De Castro is using Sookie to bait Freyda."

"Why has she had your blood?" His clenched fists straining against the inside of his pockets belied his exterior calm.

"To heal the bruising from where de Castro grabbed her on the plane," I replied. "She fought him when he tried to bite her." Eric's face contorted into a mask of rage before he turned and slammed his fist into the trunk of a nearby tree. Chips of bark flew outward from the blow as he pulled back his mangled and bloody fist and slammed it into the tree again.

"Why didn't you stop him?" he hissed. Blood dripped from the ends of his twisted fingers into the dirt at his feet.

"The flight attendant had a revolver loaded with silver bullets trained on me. It was all I could do to convince him to let me bite her." Eric struggled to maintain control. His hands were once again shoved into his pockets; his entire body looked ready to spring. "I wasn't going to leave her defenseless, Eric. Better me than him," I explained.

"Why didn't he bite her? What's his end game?"

"I convinced him that you would have no case if you took his actions before the Clan Council. He believes that he can wave Sookie's talents in front of Freyda to bait her into making a move against him."

"Sookie's the bait?"

"Yes," I confirmed, "but she is also his insurance policy."

"Explain."

"You are the wild card. If there is a showdown and you side with Freyda, then Sookie will pay the price. She'll become his in every sense of the word. He'll rip her out of her life."

"And if I side with him?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"If you prevail then you will have a bargaining chip to use to protect yourself and Sookie."

"And if I don't it won't matter," he finished giving voice to my unspoken thought. Eric had always understood the lay of the land as well as anyone. "What's his plan?" he asked bitingly.

"Sookie will be shown off as his pet tomorrow night. He expects her to read the humans in the crowd and report what she hears to him." Rage flickered across his face. "He plans to flaunt Sookie's ability in front of Freyda as often as possible to rub her nose in the fact that he has a talented telepath that he doesn't plan to share. I expect that he will make quite a show of it." Eric's stillness gave him the appearance of a pale marble statue in the cold moonlight.

"How is she?" I didn't have to guess who he was asking about. His tone was saturated with loss and longing.

"Afraid," I said, "For you, for me, less so for herself. Humiliated to be put on display."

"Afraid for you?" He looked genuinely mystified.

"I am his backup insurance. Sookie's compliance buys my continued existence."

"I see." Eric's hollow acknowledgement was followed by silence even as he continued to stare at me. He seemed to have run out of questions or perhaps he was arranging each of the players in his head. He'd asked nothing about Stan Davis. I found that odd. "How much of your blood did you give her?" he asked breaking his silence.

"Very little."

"Why not more?"

"De Castro wanted clear markings; too much of my blood and the bite marks would have healed.

"You need to get more into her." His assertion surprised me. Clearly he was expecting the worst possible scenario from the weekend.

"She is in his suite and constantly in his company or the company of one of his lieutenants. I don't know how I can get more of my blood into her."

Eric took several steps in my direction to loom over me. "Figure it out."

He stepped back and turned so that I could see his face only in profile. His bowed head, the set of his shoulders and his hands once again fisted in his pants pockets communicated his tension as well as if he had spoken it. "Did she get the necklace?"

"From de Castro? Yes." His hand snapped up and he turned fully to face me again.

"It was from me."

"The note that came with it was written by de Castro. It was in his hand."

"What did it say?" His voice sounded almost choked as his face twisted in rage.

"He called it a token of friendship—that he wanted to 'get to know her better.' He insisted she wear it this weekend." The clenched fists were joined by a clenched jaw and a darkly brooding look.

"There was nothing to indicate that it came from you," I continued. "Each of us has a lapel pin that matches the necklace. Pam and I assumed that de Castro wanted us to wear them as a show of solidarity. Like a brand."

Eric's only response was a derisory snort.

"Why would you send a necklace like that, Eric? You know Sookie has no great love for extravagant gifts."

"It's none of your business, but doesn't matter now. De Castro has co-opted it as a message to me."

"What message?"

"That what _was_ mine is now his." The look on Eric's face was horrible as the silence yawned between us. "What else do I need to know?" He seemed to have pushed his concerns for Sookie aside to focus on de Castro.

"Except for being tasked as my keeper, Sandy appears to be out of the loop."

"He never really liked her," he said offhandedly. His comment confirmed what I had come to suspect. "I never understood why he keeps her as a lieutenant when he seems to have so little respect for her."

I understood it. She is pliable and compliant. At her young age, she was honored to have such an elevated position and lived to serve the King. It was too bad that her loyalty was not better rewarded.

"She likes me," I volunteered. That earned raised eyebrows and a grunting lopsided smirk from Eric.

"Are you going to use it?" He meant was I going to use _her_.

"If and when appropriate," I responded coolly.

Eric nodded his agreement. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Pam enjoyed the book you left for her." Eric got what could only be described as a cold smile on his face.

"I know." He didn't elaborate and seemed to be mulling something over. Whatever it was could explain why he didn't ask about Stan Davis. His face was still, but his hands were clenching and unclenching in his pants pocket.

"I need you to stay close to Sookie. Get more of your blood into her."

His gaze had focused somewhere over my left shoulder as he had spoken. The fact that he hadn't looked at me directly communicated his discomfort at having to ask anything of me. Sookie was in the crosshairs of two powerful monarchs and she, much more so than any one of us, was the most vulnerable. His willingness to ask my help so directly spoke volumes of his concern about the dangers we were all facing. More than that, it was the look on his face that worried me. It was one I had never seen before—it was desperation.

"When the shit hits the fan get her out anyway you can." He drew in a deep breath and turned to face the Queen's residence. His profile was toward me, I was certain it was so that I wouldn't see the anguish on his face. "Don't let her be stupid," his voice was heated with intensity, "no matter _what_ happens or _who_ it happens to. Tell me you can do that?"

"Yes," I replied, noting his use of 'when,' not 'if.' I prayed I would be able to honor my promise given that the number of variables was nearly incalculable. Eric spared me the briefest glance before nodding sharply and walking away toward the main house.

Watching as he entered the Queen's residence, I realized that Eric might be feeling an unfamiliar sensation—helplessness. While he might have come to enjoy the distinct political and financial advantages in his pledging to Freyda, at least a part of the reason for his choices had been to keep Sookie safe. Now there was no guarantee that the sacrifice of his independence would ensure either her safety or her freedom. I couldn't honestly say I felt sorry for him, but my own experiences had taught me the misery of being caught between makers and monarchs.

I reached into my pocket once more to feel for the note that had become almost a talisman. It wasn't there. Frantically, I pulled out the lining of my pocket. Shit! Still not there. It must have fallen out when Eric grabbed my arm. Frantically I scanned the ground at my feet. Even with my eyesight, the shadowy darkness would make the tiny scrap of folded paper difficult to see.

I went down on my knees and began sweeping my hands over the fallen leaves from the trees and bushes...back and forth, back and forth and moving mere centimeters at a time praying that I would see it. Finally...there it was, slightly damp and dirty from the having been stepped on during our scuffle. I stood up clutching it in my hands and silently thanking any god who would listen that I had found it.

I moved back onto the path to the guest quarters still feeling shaken from having nearly lost Sookie's note. As I reached for the door to the guest lodgings, it opened abruptly almost hitting me in the face. It was Sandy. She did not look happy.

"Sandy…it's almost dawn." I tried not to sound startled. "What are you doing out here?" Her face looked both miserable and angry. She had not been a Vampire long enough to have perfected the mask of indifference. She still wore her emotions on her face and reacted to them in a very human way.

"I was dismissed," she said quietly in a tightlipped response.

"By whom?" I asked injecting notes of concern and sympathy.

"Directly by his Majesty," she answered bitterly, "indirectly by those laughing hyenas Gaudarama and Benenati." Apparently de Castro's 'boys club' had been called into session and girls weren't allowed in their tree house. "I was sent to find you," she elaborated. "His Majesty was extremely displeased that I left you alone with King Davis."

De Castro was not the most enlightened of Vampire Monarchs. His views of women were straight from his human existence in the waning days of the Spanish Empire. Sandy was from solid mid-western stock and had been made Vampire as women were beginning to gain social and legal parity in the earliest days of the 20th century. Ironically, it was Sandy's contemporary skills and perspectives that de Castro valued even as he disparaged her immaturity and social forwardness. She had been the one to suggest more modern approaches to running his businesses and had been instrumental in bringing me in to help improve the bottom line in his Las Vegas casino. He appreciated the improvement in his profits even if he didn't appreciate methods behind it.

"Well, you found me," I said encouragingly. Her grateful glance and relieved smile gave me the opening I'd been looking for. "Would you share a blood with me?" I asked with a note of innuendo in my tone. She wasn't so new a Vampire, however that my sudden invitation was received without skepticism.

"Why?" she asked warily. She might be suspicious, but there was hope in her eyes.

"I thought we might finish our conversation before we go to rest." The hope in her eyes bloomed into anticipation. I couldn't tell if her apparent interest was personal or 'professional'. Either way, she nodded her assent before tendering a pleased, if surprised look at my proffered arm. When her eyes met mine and found a smile there she looped her arm through mine and we entered the building.

"He's going to want to know what Davis wanted," she said quietly as we waited for the elevator.

"He wanted to talk to me about doing some work for Texas," I lied. "I expect he will mention something about it to the King sometime over the weekend."

"What kind of work?" she probed. Her tone was casual, but I understood what she was doing and I didn't resent her for it. Out of necessity her loyalties were to de Castro. If he asked she would have to have something to say.

"He wants a better system for keeping track of the Vampires who enter and leave the state, and he wants to improve his accounting systems for the tributes that come in from the Sheriffs." Sandy nodded her head in understanding. She had improved de Castro's accounting systems, so she understood the necessity of accurate recordkeeping. "He wants me to work with the head of the IT department for the kingdom." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Sandy had maintained rapt focus on my face throughout my entire explanation.

I decided to polish the apple a little more as we arrived at the door to my room. "I'd like to use some of your ideas if that would be acceptable to you, Sandy." Glancing at her as I pushed open the door to my room, I saw that her face was ecstatic. De Castro never seemed to show appreciation for Sandy's efforts. He simply expected them as his due.

"Thank you, Bill. I'd be honored," she beamed at me as she followed me into the room.

"I'll be sure to let King Davis know how much you've taught me about electronic management and accounting systems." I was sure her smile couldn't get any wider. Her upset over her King's dismissive behavior seemed to have been pushed into the background. "King de Castro had better watch out. Texas might try to steal you away," I teased. I hated my shameless pandering to her insecurities, but I knew that having Sandy on my side could prove to be useful. Pulling two bottles of Royalty Blend out of the refrigerator, I moved to put the first one in the microwave to heat.

"Oh, I doubt that," she replied. Her smile had faded and she looked dejected again. I had every intention of using Sandy if having her on my side would help keep Sookie safe, but my plan didn't make me totally immune to the sadness radiating off of her.

I shook the bottles of warmed blood and poured each of them into a glass before taking them to the small sitting area. "Here you are," I said as I handed it to her.

Her eyes found mine as she took it from me and set it on the small side table next to the love seat. She took hold of my empty left hand and tugged on it as a signal for me to sit next to her. Without a word, but continuing to hold my gaze, she took my glass from my right hand and set it on the coffee table then took hold of my right hand so that both of them lay in hers.

"I like you, Bill." Her voice was soft and her brown eyes never left mine as she spoke. "I like you a lot."

"I like you too." I knew it sounded lame, but it was the best I could do.

"Do you know _why_ I like you?" she asked.

"I'd rather you tell me," I responded feeling uncomfortable. I did like Sandy, but knew that would be as far as it would ever go. Liking was not affection. Liking was not love. It was just…liking.

"You are a gentleman. You are smart and kind. You are _handsome,_" she emphasized while smiling softly and squeezing my hands lightly as she moved them into her lap. I was forced to either move closer to her, have my arms stretched awkwardly between us or communicate my discomfort by removing my hands. I scooted closer.

"You and I like many of the same things," she further explained, "and I can talk to you and without worrying that you will laugh at me." She fell quiet for a moment, rubbing her thumbs over the back of my hands. She took a deep, unnecessary breath as if to gather her courage before continuing. "Most of all, Bill, as odd as this may sound, I feel less like a Vampire when I am with you." "Even when we are working, you make me feel like the girl I remember being. Like the girl I wish I still was."

As flattering as her laundry list of 'my charms' had been, I found myself slightly overwhelmed. While I'd finally come to understand that she _liked_ me, I guess I'd never really considered just how much. I had no idea what to think about her assertion that I helped her feel like a human girl again. Most of all I struggled with the _way_ she had said it. Her voice had been soft, caressing…almost _passionate_.

"Sandy, that is very kind…" I started before she cut me off.

"I didn't say it to be '_kind_,' Bill," she said. "I've wanted to tell you how I have felt for a long time. How could I not feel attracted to a man like you? But…," her words trailed off as she seemed to carefully weigh and measure her thoughts, "you hold yourself..._apart_." Another pause. "Do you still care for the Stackhouse woman?" she asked. Her once soft voice had turned hard and resentful.

How could I answer her without hurting her or giving her ammunition to use against Sookie? I liked Sandy well enough, but that didn't mean I trusted her.

"Sookie was bonded and pledged to Eric Northman and now she is on the way to becoming the King's pet. I can't have feelings for her." One look at Sandy's face told me that she was barely listening and didn't buy what I was telling her.

"I'm not stupid, Bill," she said pointedly. "I know your history with her. Just because you shouldn't have feelings for her doesn't mean that you don't." Her look challenged me to deny it.

"That's exactly what my feelings for her are, Sandy. History." I withdrew my hands from Sandy's grasp and got up to move away from her. I was uncomfortable with this topic and her closeness. Despite her earlier professions of caring, it occurred to me that she might be testing my loyalties to the King.

"Is it true that he threatened to end you if she doesn't cooperate or this doesn't play out the way he wants it to?" she asked.

"Yes, he made his plans for me quite clear on the plane." I sounded impatient and hostile, and I didn't care. "You or whoever is ordered to will do what they must. At this point I really can't concern myself."

"How can you say that?" she whispered urgently. "Why should _you_ have de Castro's Sword of Damocles hanging over your head because one slutty, gold-digging, bosomy blond human wants to trade up?"

I turned to face her, the tension cramping my hands as I fought the urge to strike her. If I gave in I was afraid I would knock her and her catty, hateful words through a wall.

"You don't know what you are talking about," I said abruptly struggling to keep my voice even. "It's near dawn. You should go to your rest."

"Then prove me wrong," she pressed. "She went from you, a Queen's advisor to an Area Sheriff to the King of three states. It sure looks like trading up to me." Her tone was challenging and spiteful. I'd always maintained a politely disinterested façade when de Castro mocked Sandy's naivety behind her back, but now I could see how dangerous her immaturity could be.

I flashed across the room, grabbed her, and held her off the floor by her shoulders. "Are you _determined_ to prove de Castro _right_ about you?" I growled through gritted teeth. Fear and surprise flickered in her eyes. I was not the gentle Bill that she had described, and I was only just getting started.

"What are you talking about? Put me down." She worked to make her voice hard and commanding as she struggled in my grasp, but the fear in her eyes contradicted her attempt at ferocity. "Bill! Put me down."

With a disgusted snort, I tossed her onto the sofa and went to the kitchen to pour another blood. I hoped the mundane activity would allow me to calm down. Between Eric's assault and Sandy's general cluelessness, dangerous assumptions and slurs against Sookie, I'd had more than enough for one evening.

"Leave," I barked at her. She remained seated and said nothing as I busied myself warming the blood in the microwave still fighting the urge to do violence against her.

"What did you mean I was _determined to prove de Castro right_?" Her voice was brittle as she struggled to control her emotions.

"What the fuck do you think I mean?" I yelled as I turned to face her. She recoiled as if I'd struck her. Too bad. She needed to know the truth of her place in de Castro's regime. "I think it should be clear even to you that he doesn't respect you. He makes fun of you behind your back. He excludes you from meetings with his other lieutenants. He put you in a position to report on and possibly end someone you say you care about." She'd flinched as if each piece of evidence was a lash across her back. "How much more fucking evidence do you need?" I leaned over, bracing my arms and splaying my hands on the countertop while lowering by head so that I wouldn't have to look at her. It was by sheer force of will alone that I didn't leap across the counter to slap her senseless.

"I know," she admitted in a quiet, pained whisper. I was stopped cold by her admission. "I knew as soon as Rod and Vito were promoted to lieutenants that I was no longer important in his kingdom. I am little more than a personal assistant now."

My hostility faded as I looked at the pain on her face and saw her eyes begin to rim with tears. "I'm sorry," I said. I meant it, but it wouldn't stop me from leveraging her reduced standing if it would help keep Sookie safe.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked bitterly. "You had nothing to do with it. I've been on the King's shit list since the takeover. Madden's constant whining about my 'incompetence' and 'interference' in Louisiana irritated the King so he called me back to Nevada. He's been treating me like a not very bright child since then."

"If he was that irritated, why didn't he just let you go?"

"That's that irony," she sputtered out on a harsh laugh. "He doesn't trust or respect me because I am so young, but he likes that I am adept in the use of current technology, marketing and management techniques. The same kind of things that you're good at…the up-to-the-minute knowledge that's needed to promote and make a business prosper. I thought for a while he would get rid of me and bring you in. Who knows?" she shrugged. "He still might."

"You have managed to make traffic through the casino and hotel increase," I observed. "Profits have risen."

She nodded her head silently while she absently toyed with the fringe of her skirt. "As far as he is concerned, I am just doing my job." She looked at me with a sarcastic smile on her face. "I feel like I'm starring in the Vampire version of '9 to 5'," she said dejectedly.

"9 to 5?" I asked.

"It was a movie in the 80's," she elaborated at the confusion on my face. "Dolly Parton—Jane Fonda. It was about the women who ran a company for a sexist, egotistical, self-serving boss who took all the credit," she finished impatiently.

The reference made sense now. Sandy returned to running the fringe of her skirt between her fingers. I needed to turn the conversation back to the King, his activities and anything she could tell me about Sookie.

"What was happening in the King's suite when he sent you to find me?" Her head snapped up and a she gave me a hard, appraising look.

"Anxious to know what was going on with de Castro's little tart? You're former lover?" Narrowed eyes and a mocking smile hardened her face. "The one who set you aside?"

"Stop it," I commanded harshly. "You don't know anything about her."

"I know that the King is putting _**all **_of us at risk by pinning his plans on that flighty woman." Her voice rose shrilly. "I know that if she doesn't cooperate, then you will be the first to be hurt or ended. You can't expect that I am okay with that and you can't expect me to feel very charitable toward the human woman who can bring it all down on your head."

"Why are you blaming her?" I demanded truly mystified by Sandy's vehement dislike of Sookie. "You have seen how he manipulates, coerces and corners people. You've experienced his willingness to use and discard people by his own whim. He is _**using**_ her Sandy; she did not ask for this." I reached deep into the shallow well of my patience to try to hang on to some degree of calm.

"She risked her life to save his," I continued. "In return, he promised her his protection. His so-called protection forced her to end her marriage to Eric, to be held out as the bait in his plan to acquire even more territory that he can't manage." As I recited the well known litany of de Castro's overreaching fuckery, my anger rose along with my voice. "Knowing all of that, why in God's name would you blame _Sookie_ for being used as bait to satisfy a King's ambition?"

"Because she is _**fighting**_ him," she shouted as she leapt to her feet. Fear spiked through me at her frightened tone and the dread on her face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, dreading the answer. "What did you see?" Without realizing I had moved, I found myself looming over Sandy and holding both of her upper arms in a tight grip. In my alarm I must have thought I could squeeze the information out of her. Rather than trying to shake me off, she grabbed onto my shirt with both hands as if to keep herself from falling.

"I heard him threaten her," she whispered as red tears rimmed her eyes once again. "Rod, Vito and I were in the sitting room between his bedroom and hers. He'd called us all into a meeting. He was in her bedroom yelling at her…she was yelling back and then I heard a hard slap." She paused as if trying to gather herself and looked up at me with panic in her eyes.

"What was he saying" I demanded harshly as I shook her slightly. She was standing nearly on her tiptoes, but didn't struggle to release herself. If anything, she gripped my shirt tighter. Her face was rigid with apprehension.

He reminded her of the broken bond. That no one would come to her aid." Her eyes were nearly wild with panic. "That both Eric and you were on the line and she'd better cooperate..."

"Did Sookie say anything?" My voice sounded panicked even to my own ears. My worst fears were playing out as my mind whirled frantically trying to formulate a plan to get her out of his suite and out of Oklahoma.

"She called him a son of a bitch. It was right after that that I heard the slap." I waited in anguish to hear if there was anything more. There was.

"I heard her shriek and then he said that he had only just begun to show her just how awful he could be," she continued. "It was quiet for a few seconds, then I heard a hard thump and him telling her that he was assigning Vito to stay close to you. He said if she didn't _play along_ then Vito would be '_playing with you_.' Those were his exact words: 'playing with you.' You know as well as I do what that means, Bill. You have to make her do what he says." Tears were coursing down her face as she held on to me.

I relaxed my grip on her arms and pulled her into an embrace. Her arms went around me and fisted in the back of my shirt as she cried quietly. My fear for Sookie had escalated farther than I thought possible, but I also spared a thought for Sandy. Beneath her business like demeanor, she was still very human and caught on a tight rope between de Castro's expectations and manipulations and her concern for me.

"Sookie will play along," I said trying to reassure myself as well as her. "She won't cause any more trouble. She had already agreed to his demands on the plane…he may have tried to up the ante somehow or tried to force something on her." She rested her chin on my chest a she looked up at me. "If I had to guess, it was _her _that slapped him." Alarm leapt into her eyes. I was sure she couldn't imagine a human slapping a Vampire king and walking away from it alive. Until Sookie I wouldn't have believed it myself.

I gently pried Sandy away from me and walked her to the door between our adjoining rooms. "She could use a friendly face, Sandy."

She looked at me skeptically as she wiped away the tear stains on her face. "I don't know how to be _friends_ with anyone anymore." Sandy's depressing reply came out slightly slurred. The sun was within two or three minutes of rising. I was actually surprised that, as young as she was she was still on her feet.

"It's easy," I replied quickly as I walked her toward her room. "You smile and speak pleasantly. Sookie will take it from there." She nodded almost drunkenly as I sat her on the edge of her bed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow evening. Rest well." She slumped over on her left side and died before my eyes. I reached down and pulled her boots off and lifted her legs onto to the bed before laying the coverlet at the foot of the bed over her.

I had just enough time to return to my room and fish Sookie's bedraggled note out of my jacket pocket. I hurriedly unfolded the incredibly tiny piece of paper. In the rush I dropped it. Damn it. I had only minutes before my own need to go to my rest would be upon me. I picked up the small square and quickly read through it.

_Saturday. Tell him I'm sorry._


	22. Chapter 22: Transition

Chapter 22: Transition

**AN:** Thank you everyone for your patience as you have waited so many weeks for this chapter. I cannot tell you how much I have appreciated the support and encouragement you have extended to me through private messages and comments left in the reviews. Your patience and continued support mean the world to me. I hope this chapter will be worth the wait.

As a secondary note, a little part of me wondered if anyone would be interested in continuing to read this after Deadlocked came out. I truly enjoyed it and was graphically reminded why CH and the SVM series has such a devoted fan following. If you are still with me and find any pleasure in reading _this_ story, then you have my undying thanks and appreciation.

**Joyindenver** continues to be my guide, mentor, and collaborator extraordinaire. So much more than the sum of her parts, she is precious to me. (((((*****))))) H and K, Joy!

**Charlaine Harris** owns the characters that we all seem to enjoy so much. She and her creations have thrilled, entertained and inspired me. Thank you, Ms. Harris.

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><p><strong>Previously...<strong>

_I had just enough time to return to my room and fish Sookie's bedraggled note out of my jacket pocket. I hurriedly unfolded the incredibly tiny piece of paper. In the rush I dropped it. Damn it. I had only minutes before my own need to go to my rest would be upon me. I picked up the small square and quickly read through it. _

_Saturday. Tell him I'm sorry._

**First dark, Friday evening...**

I died feeling a level of disquiet that verged on panic. I rose feeling the same way. It wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine that 'Saturday' in Sookie's note meant that would be the day when she believed that matters would come to a head. It was the _'tell him I'm sorry'_ that had me worried.

Had anyone but Sookie written that note I might believe that she was suicidal, but she would never do that. Instead I worried that she might be driven to do something to endanger herself on either Eric's behalf or mine. She'd done it often enough in the past for both of us, and Eric was right to be worried. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were all sitting on a powder keg, and Sookie was holding the match.

Glancing at my watch, I was startled to realize that I had lain in bed mulling over the events of the previous night for nearly an hour, uneasiness crawling like ants across my skin, my left hand rubbing my sternum trying to ease the tightness in my chest. Unable to settle myself, I rose quickly and headed toward the sumptuous bathroom hoping that a shower would help me shake my forebodings.

I had to give Fredya her due: the accommodations were nothing short of luxurious and she, via her household staff, had paid scrupulous attention to detail. The bathroom was outfitted with double sinks set in glossy black granite counters, a deep Jacuzzi tub and a separate multi-headed shower stall. I loved lying in warm water, but the lateness of the hour and the natural granite shower called to me.

The bliss of the warm water pulsing from the multiple jets couldn't keep me from worrying about how I was going to get more blood into Sookie. Eric had been right to insist that I give her more, but insisting was much easier than actually doing it. I needed to give her enough to provide her with greater physical strength, but not so much that de Castro would be alerted to it. The amount to give her was the minor problem, while _how_ to get it to her presented the greater challenge. I didn't trust Sandy and I doubted that I would have very much if any time to give it to her directly.

I was still struggling to formulate a plan, when I heard a knock on the door adjoining my room to Sandy's. I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and dripped my way to the door while rubbing my hair dry with a towel. Burdened and anxious about the several things I needed to do before making my appearance at the cocktail reception I yanked the door open. Sandy's eyes swept over my nearly naked appearance.

"Sandy," I acknowledged forcing myself to relax the tight scowl on my face. Though anxious to be rid of her I was able to keep my voice level, but couldn't squelch the hint of impatience in my tone.

"How do I look?" she asked slowly twirling around. Coming around to face me, the anxious smile on her face begged for approval. "I asked Sookie to give me advice on my hairstyle and make-up for this," she said sweeping her hand down the length of her pale yellow, full skirted ball gown. "You were right," she acknowledged, "she is really nice." Her unnaturally chirpy tone left me to wonder if it was her appearance that she wanted validated or if she expected my appreciation for her sudden acceptance of Sookie. Perhaps it was both.

"You look very nice," I offered with as much sincerity as I could muster. Disappointment settled on her face. Clearly she had been looking for something more than the standard male response to that question.

At best, Sandy could only be described as 'wholesome looking.' I imagined that in life she had been a robust and rosy cheeked farm girl, but the pallor of death had removed the rosiness. What remained was a young Vampire, sturdy and solid looking and neither fat nor thin. While I knew nothing about women's fashions, even I could see that the color and cut of her dress did nothing complement either her coloring or her figure. The billowing skirt added to her bulk and the color made her look sallow and washed out. She would be easily overlooked in any crowd.

"Did Sookie do your hair?" I asked hoping to distract her from my distinctly unenthusiastic reaction. Even if her hair tended to be a rather dull light brown, it was done up in a pretty soft knot at the nape of her neck.

"Her maid did," she said dispiritedly. "That little Indian Were girl...the one we met last night...I didn't ask her name."

_Typical_, I thought. Even if Sandy hadn't bothered to learn Sookie's maid's name, I had. Inola. A sudden solution came to me. She might be the answer to one of my dilemmas. I just needed to find a way to get her alone. It wouldn't be easy. Freyda had trained her staff to be inconspicuous when they weren't in direct service.

"Sookie was too busy _pouring_ herself into her dress," Sandy continued. "She acted annoyed and didn't seem to want the maid to help her. At least I gave the girl something to do." Despite her earlier words, her general disdain for Sookie was still clearly evident in her tone. "I can't believe I beat you getting dressed," she said changing the subject. She brightened a bit as her eyes roved over me standing there still barefoot, still wet and wrapped in a towel. "What have you been doing?"

"I'm afraid I've been a bit lazy," I admitted trying to sound sheepish while starting to dry with the towel I'd used on my hair. Her sharp eyes seemed to watch every move I made. "I found the bed very comfortable and the bathroom amenities inviting. I've been taking my time, but I really do need to get on with it…." My voice trailed off as a sudden, vague uneasiness gripped me again. I could only imagine that Sookie was dealing with stress great enough to reach me through our ephemeral connection. I really wanted Sandy to stop prattling and go back to her own room.

"Alright, then," she said reluctantly apparently unable to decide what was causing my distracted response. "I'll just wait next door if you need help with your tie." She reached for the door, smiled coyly and raked her yes over me from head to toe once again. "I have to help the King with his all the time. It is but one of my _many_ talents."

She did everything but waggle her eyebrows at me. Her attempt at innuendo was nearly laughable, and I hoped that my smile was taken for encouragement rather than uncomfortable awareness of her interest. Sandy was the last thing on my list of things to be concerned about tonight as a persistent hum of uneasy awareness made me feel as if I was going to rattle out of my skin.

"I'll let you give me the once over before we go to the reception," I offered quickly. "How's that?"

Her face lit up in a pleased grin. "I'll wait until I hear you call for me," she gushed. The slight tinge of guilt I'd felt about Sandy was pushed aside in my worry over Sookie. I could only imagine what fuckery de Castro may have perpetrated on her in the hours since he rose. I was sure that my persistent anxiety was influenced by whatever was going on with her and transmitted through the small amount of my blood that she carried. Out connection was so transient and weak, her anxiety must be very great if I was feeling it.

I hurriedly dried my hair and dressed. I ran a polishing cloth over my shoes, tied my bow tie, adjusted my pocket square and checked myself over in the full length mirror. Hopefully I would meet Sandy's '_exacting standards_.' The door to her room swung open just as I reached it. She had to have been listening for my footsteps.

"You look wonderful," she breathed, slightly wide-eyed. "Is that a new tux?" She stepped across the threshold and walked around behind me, the silky fabric of her full skirt rustling with each step. I could feel her hands running across the breadth of my shoulders as if to smooth the fit of my jacket. It wasn't necessary, the fit was perfect. I'd had it tailored just before we left Louisiana.

"Yes," I answered. "How's my tie?" Having had much practice tying bowties for the formal dress in Sophie Ann's court, I expected her to say it was fine. Silly me.

Instead, she wrinkled her nose in disapproval. "You're no better than the King," she sighed in mock exasperation. "Let me retie it for you." It was all I could do to keep from rolling my eyes as I responded to her command to, "Lean down."

Even though it was wholly unnecessary, I bent down as ordered and allowed Sandy to yank my tie undone and then redo it. Her hands plucked at the points of my pocket square before they swept down my shirt front. "Go see," she prompted quietly. Her eyes were soft as she reached for my shoulders to turn me toward the mirror over the dresser. I found my tie and pocket square to be no better arranged than I had done it, but at least Sandy seemed pleased with her efforts. My earlier trace of guilt had been assuaged.

"It looks perfect, Sandy. Thank you." Had she been human she probably would have blushed. As it was her face radiated pleased accomplishment. "Are you ready to go?" I asked. I was weary of Sandy's attempts at flirting and the need to see about Sookie was wearing on me even as I feared what I might find.

"I am," she answered looking at me expectantly.

"Well then," I replied offering her my arm, "off we go."

As we left my room, I kept reaching out through our blood exchange to see if I could pinpoint anything about Sookie's emotions, but nothing registered except that persistent dull feeling of uneasiness. There just hadn't been enough of an exchange for anything but the strongest of emotions to register more specifically. I hoped that another small infusion of my blood would increase my ability to feel her.

Sandy and I took the elevator up to the lobby and walked out toward the courtyard. Once outside, we both paused to take in the scene before us. Sometime during the day, Freyda's groundskeepers had strung tiny white lights through the branches of the trees to form a softly glowing bower over the pathway to the Queen's residence and ballroom. The heady fragrance of winter roses and night blooming jasmine wrapped around us like a fragrant mantle. Bathed in moonlight and accented by twinkling lights the garden took on an enchanted fairyland feel. The sound of music coming from the ballroom only enhanced the romantic atmosphere.

A sudden tightness formed in my throat and my chest constricted with a deep yearning the like of which I hadn't experienced in years. My eyes closed to block out the beauty of the scene. I could almost feel Emma's warmth as I remembered our arm in arm walks through the New Orleans Garden District admiring the homes with their lavish landscaping and fragrant flowers. Warm lights had pooled out of the windows casting a golden glow as we walked and talked about our future together, the home we would have and the gardens that could be enjoyed day or night. The bittersweet memories choked me even as I realized that Emma would have reveled in the romance of this garden with its dreamy lighting and luxuriant aromas. A vision of her delighted face played on my closed eyelids causing me to rake my unencumbered hand over my face hoping to stop the pain.

The image changed.

More recent memories of Sookie rose to the surface to take Emma's place: the two of us lying on an old quilt beneath the stars, summer evenings sitting on the front porch listening to the bullfrogs and cicadas, the gentle hum of our conversations on quiet summer nights. We'd spent many of those evenings wrapped in each other's arms, my hands running over her silken skin, my body entwined with hers and the two of us enveloped in the perfume of her grandmother's roses and Carolina jasmine. Sookie had loved me then, and I would never again smell jasmine without thinking of her.

My gut clenched as longing gave way to a tidal wave of choking anger. I was so fucking tired of being alone. Emma had been taken from me, and I had fucked it up with Sookie. It might be that I was meant to spend eternity alone, but if that was the case, I wasn't going to continue my existence wallowing in the intrigues of Vampire politics. If I succeeded in keeping Sookie safe and survived this weekend, I would leave Louisiana behind while hoping to build a different, more peaceful existence somewhere else. Perhaps Europe. My various trips there had always been relatively peaceful and pleasant. As the humans say, the European monarchs seemed to have their shit together.

On the other hand, if I failed, if I couldn't keep her safe, then I wasn't sure that there would be any reason for me to continue my existence. Hers would be the one loss in a long string that I wouldn't be able to handle. Shaking as I struggled get a grip on myself I wondered, not for the first time, what our chances were of getting out of this weekend alive.

"Bill!" Sandy exclaimed sharply. I opened my eyes to see Sandy's confused face. Her searching eyes caught mine as she tucked herself closer to my side. "Where the hell have you been?" Equal parts irritation and alarm colored her voice.

"What do you mean?" I asked shaking myself out of the past even as a part of me felt as if I'd truly been somewhere else. I silently wished I had been. Anywhere but here.

"I have never seen such expressions on your face as I did just now," she said snappishly. "You looked sad, then angry enough to kill. What were you thinking about?"

"Someone I used to know," I said resignedly. I hoped she wouldn't press me on this.

"Who?" she snapped sounding peevish and spoiled. "Sookie?" she spat acidly, her lip curling as if she'd tasted something rotten.

Something broke inside of me. I'd had enough of Sandy's jealous assumptions and tirades. She had no right to either. I whirled on her, prying her hands off of my arm. "Do you _want_ a relationship with me?" I asked bluntly, coldly. Caught flat-footed by my quick fury, she backed away slightly as if from a physical assault. She couldn't have been more stunned than if I had suddenly asked her to pledge to me.

"I...I thought you didn't like me," she stammered plaintively. She suddenly looked lost, small and very human.

"I don't like the way you _act_," I told her frankly, "especially with regard to Sookie. I have made it plain that we are history, she is the King's pet, or soon will be. I have no clue why you persist in acting jealously and treating her like a rival." My words came out sharp, angry and hard. Some part of me understood that I was admitting out loud my worst fears regarding Sookie's future and it fueled my rage. "I _**do not**_—I _**cannot**_, have a relationship with her." I felt my anger wrapping around me, galvanizing me. I couldn't keep myself from advancing on her. "If you keep acting like this there is _no chance _of any relationship with me. Ever. Do—you—understand?"

Apparently I'd frightened her. She had taken a step back for every step I'd taken forward. Her eyes were huge in her small, round face, but she nodded her understanding to my angry assertions. The tightness I'd been carrying in my chest since I rose intensified as I stood looming over her, fists clenching and unclenching, fighting to regain my composure.

"Can we sit down for a minute?" she asked in a tentative, small voice. "Please." Her hand reached for mine.

"I'm sure the King is expecting us inside," I replied brusquely. "He will not take kindly to us making him wait." Expecting us or not, I was desperate to get away from her pleading look. I turned to walk away.

"Hmpf," she grunted deep in her throat, her irritation plain as she plopped down in a drifting cloud of silk on a nearby bench. "Freyda's got nothing on him; he's waiting to make a grand entrance with Sookie on his arm." There was that tone of derision again.

"Sandy..." I said warningly as I turned back to her.

"Sorry," she said smiling apologetically while holding her hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Old habits..." I didn't care that my face was grim and disapproving as I looked at her. She patted the bench next to her inviting me to sit down.

"The King's even wearing his cape tonight;" she giggled girlishly, "the black one with the red silk lining." Her eyebrows were raised over pale pink lips pressed together in a failed attempt to stifle her amusement. "I tried talking him out of it." There was a snicker hiding just below the surface. "He looks like a matador."

"I'm sure it will be very..._dramatic_," I commented drily hoping to slow the spiraling of emotions threatening to consume me. I was desperate for anything that would lighten the feeling of dread and foreboding that had been with me since I rose.

"It will match his red cummerbund," she sniggered while scooting closer to place her hand on my sleeve. She'd overcome her earlier shock at my outburst, abandoned her serious manner and had turned to flirting again. My cynical heart or perhaps my logical head suggested she might be testing my purported lack of interest in Sookie.

"Will he be accessorizing with castanets or an estosque?" I asked lightly, my amusement partially genuine.

"Not quite an estosque, the hilt is too big," she explained. "He is carrying his swept-hilt rapier. He considered several though before deciding on the rapier." She looked slyly at me. "He is quite a skilled swordsman and had lots to choose from," she elaborated with the flourish of an imaginary sword.

_He would_, I thought wryly. He was very well practiced and the dueling rapier had been the weapon of choice among Spanish noblemen from the Renaissance onward.

"I am all too aware," I said aloud as I recalled my sparring matches with the King in Las Vegas. To his credit, he'd allowed me to score a hit on a few occasions, but I'd never beaten him, and I never would. With his skills and speed, he could have my head rolling on the floor before my brain registered the assault.

We were both laughing quietly, still caught with the image of King de Castro dressed in his swashbuckling best when we heard the sound of footsteps on the path. I didn't know if the stutter of my heart was imagined or real, but one quick look at Sookie was nearly enough to make it start stuttering in my chest. As she walked next to the King, the bright moon cast an ethereal glow over her hair and shoulders. She was breathtakingly lovely, but her heart was hammering; her expression strained and tight.

A sharp wave of lust shot through me. Aching warmth radiated from my loins and rose to a throbbing in my gums as my fangs emerged. Some small involuntary noise must have escaped me judging from Sandy's glare and the feel of her hand tightening painfully on my wrist. In an act of pure determination, I forced my fangs to retract behind tightly compressed lips.

"Bill. Sandy," the King greeted gliding to a stop in front of us. "Enjoying the moonlight?" His voice was heavy with smug innuendo. His eyes flicked back and forth between Sandy and me as he stroked his hand possessively over Sookie's as it rested on his forearm. I was reluctant to catch her eye for fear that I would have difficulty controlling my reaction to his possessive display.

Every emotion save disgust drained away as I stood in the required posture of deference to my King. The reality of our situation sat heavily upon me once more, and my fingers itched to encircle the small bottle of blood in my pocket. I prayed that my face showed nothing more than bland neutrality even as I made and discarded various plans to get my blood into Sookie.

Afraid I was going to give myself away, I focused on the King. Sandy had been right. De Castro had pulled out all the stops with his signature sartorial style. Half of his silk cape was folded precisely over his left shoulder to show off the red lining which stood in sharp contrast to the black of his clothing. Clearly Sandy had been right about his intention to recall the heyday of Spanish bullfighting by wearing a tight fitting waist-length Sarga jacket and a deep red, embroidered cummerbund, white shirt and narrow black tie. His pants fit snuggly to his body and were accessorized by a narrow tooled belt holding his scabbard. If his purpose was to draw attention I imagined that he would succeed. He was every inch the Spanish _torero_ escorting a _reina bella_—a beautiful queen—to the blood sport of bullfighting. Potential parallels to tonight's events and those remaining in the weekend did not escape me.

"Good evening, Majesty, Sookie," I said offering a slight bow. "Sandy and I were enjoying the gardens before going inside." My quick glance at Sookie provided the reason for the constant unease I had been feeling. Her face was bland, but her eyes were glassy and she seemed just as unwilling to meet my gaze as I had been to meet hers. The quivering disquiet I'd felt earlier seemed to be mine alone now. She was completely numb or was ruthlessly suppressing her emotions.

"Freyda's gone to quite a bit of trouble and expense wouldn't you say?" the King asked. His tone was mocking rather than admiring.

"I think it's lovely," Sandy piped up. "What do you think, Sookie?" De Castro's eyebrows raised in amused surprise at her cheerful tone and inclusion of Sookie in the conversation. He turned to her with a leering smirk waiting for her response.

Sookie looked around with an expression completely devoid of emotion. "It's beautiful." Her flat tone matched her facial expression and confirmed my earlier assessment: she was in emotional lock-down in an effort to play her part as expected and not lose control.

"Would you like to enjoy the gardens a bit before we go in, my dear?" the King asked her. "There are some lovely secluded benches among the trees." His oily tone was more suggestive than solicitous; the look in his eyes was predatory.

"No!" Her sharply blurted response was met with raised eyebrows and a grim, disapproving set to de Castro's mouth. "Thank you, your Majesty," Sookie said more gently, careful to look directly at de Castro and smile as she said it. "If it is okay with you I'd like to go inside. I'm a little cold." She shivered and her free hand came up to rub her other arm briskly. Given what she was wearing, I could see why she was cold.

While his attention was focused on Sookie, I had a chance to really look at her. Her dress was stunning, but completely unlike anything I'd ever seen her wear. It looked like black lace molded onto her body with nothing on underneath, the line was so smooth and perfect. It was long-sleeved, but cut very low in the front hinting at the lush bounty of her breasts. Fitting snuggly to just below her hips, it flared out into a full sweeping skirt showing the bounty of her curves before ending in a short train. I was willing to bet that this was not the dress that Sookie exchanged for the daring one that Pam had been worried about. I was conflicted by the thought that she had been forced to wear it while at the same time working to mercilessly suppress the lust aroused by her appearance. A quick glance at Sandy revealed a narrow eyed appraisal of my reaction. I could feel jealousy radiating off of her.

As expected, the low cut neckline of Sookie's dress did nothing to conceal my bite marks. They were clearly visible above Eric's necklace, fading but still visible even under the make-up that she had carefully applied. However, no make-up would conceal the shadows under her eyes. At first glance she was stunning, but upon closer examination the shiny wetness of her eyes and her too bright, forced smile betrayed depthless stress. She was teetering on a razor's edge in a flamenco dress and impossibly high heels.

"Of course, my dear, it is cool out here," the King said unctuously. "Let's get you inside." As they walked away, de Castro leaned down to whisper to Sookie. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?" She looked up at him, and in profile I could see her mouth quirk up into a small tentative smile. If I had to guess, it didn't reach her eyes.

As Sandy and I walked behind them, the view provided by the back of Sookie's dress was as impressive as the front. It was cut low, revealing the dimples just above her ass. The only thing that kept her dress from falling off her shoulders was a wide band of fine black lace that ran from shoulder to shoulder across the back. Her hair was smoothed back from her forehead and pulled up in a sleek roll at the nape of her long neck and held in place by a black mother of pearl mantilla comb adorned with what looked like rubies. Long Spanish-style ruby and jet earrings dangled from her ears.

Clearly de Castro was trying to recreate some long ago memory of his human life as a Spanish hidalgo. From the fluttering slash of red over his shoulder to the red soles of Sookie's six-inch heels flashing with each step, I was reminded of danger signs. De Castro had gone to great pains to make Sookie look as if she'd stepped out of a Renaissance painting by Goya. Her aristocratic old world look was in sync with de Castro's with only one detail glaringly anachronistic: Eric's necklace. The beautiful modern design was startlingly incompatible with her outfit. De Castro only allowed her to wear it for two reasons: first, to give lip service to his promise; second and most important, so that Eric would get the message: she is no longer yours. Message delivered, the necklace would be discarded along with any pretense that Eric might be allowed to reclaim her. A small part of me took cold comfort in the pain that Eric would feel.

The double doors to the ballroom were opened by two bowing Weres clad in traditional English livery right down to the white ties, starched shirt fronts, and white gloves. Freyda was doing her pretentious best to impress. Last night had been a nod to Oklahoma with a Plain's Indians Extravaganza; tonight we were recalling her German heritage with a European Grand Ball.

"_His Majesty, Felipe de Castro, King of Nevada, Louisiana and Arkansas and his companion, Miss Sookie Stackhouse," _intoned the liveried footman at the entrance. It was all I could do to suppress a derisive snort at the ostentatious flourish of his cape when the King and Sookie stepped inside the ballroom. If she hadn't been so anxious, I was sure that Sookie would have been doubled over with laughter.

Sandy and I were held back until Sookie and the King were well inside. When it was our turn, I was announced as 'Special Advisor to King de Castro, William Erasmus Compton' and Sandra Louise Secreast was announced as the King's Lieutenant. She let out an audible sigh of relief at the announcement of our names. I looked at her inquiringly.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"As little as the King has to do with me these days…" she trailed off seeming to think better of what she was going to say. I raised my eyebrows encouraging her to go on. "Nothing," she said quickly. "I'm just glad to be here. With you…," she finished softly. Whatever had been bothering her, she kept it to herself.

An orchestra was in full swing playing a waltz as Sandy and I entered the ballroom. The King and Sookie were already dancing. He was holding her entirely too closely and the smile on her face looked forced; her efforts to look relaxed failing miserably. That prickly feeling of disquiet had returned as my faint connection to Sookie hummed with suppressed apprehension.

Sandy looked at me hopefully as we made our way to our table. "Would you care to dance?" I asked on cue. She nodded and accepted my proffered hand. We stepped out on to the dance floor just as the waltz ended and _Fly Me to the Moon, _a classic fox trot tunebegan bringing on another sharp, stabbing memory of Emma.

Many of the assembled guests, humans and Vampires alike watched Sookie and de Castro as they moved through the elegant, unhurried intricacies of the dance. De Castro preened, smugly aware of the attention focused on them, but Sookie's strained features had settled into what might have been a wax visage of smiling submission. Her eyes were focused somewhere over his shoulder. De Castro, unwilling to be less than the center of her attention, drew her closer into a strangling embrace much as the boa constrictor hugs its victims to death. She acknowledged his subtle assault by returning her gaze to his face, but her frozen, insincere smile never faltered. Pride in her courage and fear for her safety warred within me as she refused to be cowed by his domination.

Wholly focused on Sookie and the King, I'd moved almost as an automaton through my dance with Sandy: the steps, turns and transitions coming as naturally as a human breathes. Sandy had only been a prop that allowed me to be close enough to watch the two of them. My observations had accomplished only one thing: I might not be able to do anything in the middle of a crowded ballroom, but I promised myself, that I would do whatever it took to protect Sookie from whatever shit storm the weekend promised to deliver.

The dance came to an end. The King led Sookie from that dance floor and I took Sandy's hand to follow suit. Ahead of us, Sookie and the King cut a path through crowd of people looking for their tables, couples heading to the dance floor, and small knots of people standing between tables engaged in conversation. Suddenly, Sookie seemed to falter, her back stiffening noticeably. Stepping slightly to the left to look beyond her, I could see why.

Copely Carmichael.

The New Orleans business man and Amelia's father was well known to Sookie. He was also known to either appreciate or loath his daughter's witchcraft by turns. When it benefitted him he traded on it; when it didn't he denied her talents and belittled her beliefs. Most recently, he'd sung the praises of Amelia's skills when telling de Castro of her spell to break the bond between Sookie and Eric. The result had been her increased vulnerability to de Castro. Sookie's rigid posture and her grim profile as she glanced at the King told me what I already knew: she would have trouble controlling herself around Carmichael.

As the de Castro and Sookie reached the table, those seated there rose in deference to the King. "Your Majesty," Carmichael gushed rushing forward. "Thank you for including me in your party." His effusiveness earned only a slight incline of the King's head in a semblance of greeting.

"Sookie, how wonderful to see you again," he enthused smiling broadly and moving in as if to embrace her. He stopped abruptly however, and offered an apologetic look instead. Though the King's back was to me, I was sure that one grim look from the de Castro had pulled Carmichael up short. "She and my daughter were roommates for several months after Katrina.," he explained. "I've been in her little Bon Temps house many times."

His chummy manner and blinding white teeth reminded me of an unscrupulous used car salesman: anxious to make the deal, but nowhere to be found if the car had problems. He wore dishonesty, deviousness and ruthlessness like a cheap suit. He prattled on with obsequious flattery aimed at the King and seemed to inch closer to him with every word.

My position behind Sookie and the King did not allow me to see her face, but I really didn't need to. The more Carmichael toadied, the more stiff and unyielding her posture became. De Castro had possession of her right arm, but the fist forming at the end of her left arm betrayed her growing agitation and anger. Instead of shying away, she looked as if she was ready to do battle.

"_Two times_," she said suddenly, emphatically and loudly. Her right hand gripped de Castro's sleeve, not for support, but in agitation. She turned her furious face toward him. Her back was ramrod straight, and her breathing fast and her mouth set in a grim line as she turned in profile to look at the King. I'd seen that look a time or two and knew that she was incensed.

"Two times?" the King asked, his eyebrows pitched sharply upward in feigned confusion.

"He has been in my home two times. We are _**not**_ friends." Her words came out as a harsh rebuke of Carmichael's attempts at a folksy connection. A small, arrogant smile lit de Castro's face.

"Now my dear—" Carmichael began.

"Let's all take our seats, shall we?" de Castro said, cutting Carmichael off. He took Sookie's arm and helped her into her seat.

Sandy and I took our seats directly across from her and the King. He motioned Carmichael to take a seat to her right next to Vito, de Castro's bodyguard who created a barrier between her and Carmichael. Next to me Rod, Red Rita and Jeremy watched as we all settled into our seats. Since the King's second reserved table was occupied by the other Louisiana Sheriffs and their companions or guests, I assumed that the remaining empty chair at our table was reserved for Pam causing me to wonder where she was.

The tense silence of the table was lifted slightly as waiters came around offering champagne to the humans and warmed goblets of blood for the Vampires. Lifting his glass, the King proposed a toast. "To the Queen of Oklahoma and her future Consort," he paused and looked at Sookie, "may they live long and prosper together and may we all bask in the success of their union." We said the obligatory 'hear-hears' and took a drink. De Castro had callously, knowingly poured salt in the wound of Sookie's love for Eric.

Over the edge of my glass, I met eyes that registered the sorrow of her heart as she put her glass to her lips, but did not drink. She gripped the champagne glass ruthlessly, her knuckles white with the strain. Though agitated, her face was locked down in a frigid mask. I could only look back at her and hope that my answering gaze offered comfort and support while conveying a message of strength to resist de Castro's cruelty.

The glasses were drained and slowly the the awkwardness of Sookie's outburst and the King's toast waned. Casual conversations were struck up around the table with Carmichael doing his best to keep the King's attention. Fortunately, Sandy was quiet leaving me to wonder about not only about Pam, but also Freyda and Eric. They had yet to make an appearance.

Sandy's preoccupation with the table conversation gave me the opportunity to look at our surroundings. Freyda had transformed the large space into a grand ballroom complete with candlelit chandeliers, floor to ceiling mirrors and diaphanous draping all the way around the room. Electricity was used only to light the strings of white twinkling lights that had been placed behind the sheer material draping the walls and ceilings. Tall candelabra had been centered on half the tables and the other half were decorated with elaborate floral arrangements of red and white roses. The heavy fragrance of the floral arrangements, the radiant glow of the burning candles reflecting off the tall mirrors and the diaphanous material billowing gently on the breeze created by the dancers lent a soft, dreamy atmosphere to the room.

Freyda seemed to have thought of everything to create a mood and provide handsomely for her guests. However, the effort was lost on me; overpowered by the anxiety coming at me from Sookie through the fragile connection we now shared. In an effort to distract myself from the feeling, I focused on my surroundings. There was an extensive buffet for humans and Vampires alike. For the humans there was a variety of foods and beverages laid out along one wall and like the previous evening, the buffet for the Vampires took the form of live donors. There was a substantial group of them standing along the wall opposite the humans' buffet. The young women were dressed in low cut, strapless white gowns with wrist corsages of red roses. The young men were wearing white dinner jackets with red pocket squares and red rose boutonnieres. All of them had small buttons on their dress or jacket indicating their blood type.

The agitation I felt rolling off of Sookie was weighing on me. The urge to rub the hard anxious knot that had formed behind my breastbone had returned.

Scanning the other side of the room, I immediately spotted the answer to my problem of how to get my blood to Sookie. Anticipation washed over the anxiety that had moments ago pressed heavily upon me. It got Sookie's attention. It took a fraction, but her gaze eventually followed mine. Inola.

She was dressed in a server's costume weaving through the tables offering champagne to the humans. From the stressed look on her lovely face, I guessed that she was unaccustomed to being in the company of so many Vampires at once. I just had to find away to break loose from Sandy to get the blood to Enola so that she could hand it off to Sookie. I glanced back at Sookie to see a question in her eyes: _'What are you up to?'_ they seemed to say.

"Bill!" Sandy exclaimed. I turned my head to see an exasperated look on her face. "_What_ has you so preoccupied tonight? Every time I look at you it seems you are a million miles away."

"I'm just taking in the scene," I said smoothly hoping that she wouldn't press me for further conversation.

"Are you going to select a donor?" She asked. Her focus seemed to be fixated on the donor pool standing along the wall.

Ignoring Sookie's questioning gaze, I responded quietly to Sandy, "Perhaps later."

"I need to feed," she said softly sounding a little frantic. After shooting a brief glance at de Castro before turning more towards me she explained, "If you want to feed we will need to go together. If we go separately, he'll notice. I am supposed to stay close to you at all times." Fortunately the King was engaged in conversation with Rita and Jeremy and didn't appear to overhear her comment. Sookie was watching us intently.

"I'll stay here until you return. I know what your responsibility is."

Sandy smiled gratefully at me and turned to the King. "Majesty," she prompted tentatively waiting for de Castro to pause his conversation. "With your permission I would like to take advantage of the donors Queen Freyda has provided." De Castro turned and focused on his lieutenant with a poorly concealed look of disdain and nodded his consent with a sharp jerk of his chin in the direction of the donors.

I stood to assist Sandy from her chair and reassured her. "Don't worry, I'll be here. Enjoy your meal." She offered a relieved smile and hurried toward the donors waiting passively along the wall. I watched her stop in front of a tall, dark-haired young man. After what looked like an exchange of a few words, the young man offered his arm in a courtly gesture to escort her from the ballroom. Relieved of her presence, I turned my attention back to the group at the table.

"… hoping I could put in a bid on redoing some of your casinos in New Orleans." Carmichael was pitching his company's construction services and exuberantly leaning over Vito trying to get closer to de Castro. The King's eyes roamed over the scene in the ballroom, apparently bored and barely listening. Sookie, on the other hand seemed rapt, her trance-like gaze was fixed somewhere out in the space of the room. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed and a slow, almost feral smile began to settle on her lips. It was a look I'd seen many times before: she was listening to someone's mind. De Castro's gaze settled on me. Noticing my fixation on Sookie, he turned to look more fully at her.

"Is something wrong, my pet?" de Castro asked turning towards her and placing his arm possessively along the back of her chair. In spite of the subtle flinch at the King's use of the word 'pet,' her features smoothed out as she turned to face the King. I could feel her irritation and disgust spike at his domineering behavior. I felt much the same.

"You may want to reconsider using Carmichael Construction," she said quietly without inflection or elaboration. Tilting her chin up defiantly she cast a brief, sidelong glance in Carmichael's direction and angled her body away from him.

"What are you talking about?" Carmichael hissed. "I have an excellent reputation in Louisiana." His face was red and his narrowed eyes shifted frantically between Sookie and de Castro trying to get a read on the situation.

Sookie's face hardened into a defiant mask of certainty as she looked Carmichael in the eye, but addressed her comments to the King. "I am not sure what all of it means…I don't know much about construction. Maybe you can put the pieces together, your Majesty."

"What '_pieces_?'" Carmichael demanded; his face pinched and angry.

"Why don't you just tell me what you 'heard?'" the King prompted. A look of smug expectation settled on his face as Sookie's eyes rolled up to the ceiling in a feigned look of reluctant recall.

"Well," she said slowly, "one thing was something about 'kickbacks.' He was thinking about suppliers… one hand washing the other … how much he was going to make off the renovation of just one of your casinos." By nature, Sookie was not a vindictive person, but pleased satisfaction radiated off of her.

"Wait just a damn minute," Carmichael interrupted hotly as he leapt to his feet, "you can't believe that shit, your Majesty! She's just making it up because she and my daughter had a falling out over some man." Carmichael glared at Sookie, his hands bunched into tight fists, his shoulders pitched forward, and his body looking ready to leap across the table. Tension blanketed the table. My muscles prepped for action; ready to spring. Vito and Rod had also visibly tensed, prepared to act if he so much as flinched in the direction of the King or Sookie.

The King looked past Sookie at Carmichael fixing him with a level stare. "Sit. Down," he commanded. "Let her finish, Carmichael. I am very interested in what she has to say." Carmichael sat back down, his eyes filled with poisoned hate as he glared a Sookie.

"Anything else, my dear?" the King prompted. He pulled Sookie closer to him, almost tucking her body into his in a pseudo protective measure. I didn't know if the revulsion I felt was my own or Sookie's.

"He pads his payroll," Sookie alleged. "There aren't as many workers on the jobsites as he bills for. Most are unskilled, undocumented…he pays them as little as he can, but bills you union rates." Sookie pulled away slightly and dropped her hands to her lap. "There were some other things, but they all added up to the same thing."

"And that was…?" the King prompted.

"You stupid, fang banging cunt," Carmichael erupted, sputtering so viciously that spit formed at the corners of his mouth. He'd kept his voice low, but was still managing to draw attention to our table.

"Rod. Vito. Escort Mr. Carmichael to his room," the King barked. The two men rose immediately to stand directly behind Carmichael. When he didn't rise straight away, Rod pulled his chair away from the table.

"Your Majesty," Carmichael gasped as Vito pulled him roughly from his chair, "you can't believe her." His tone was pleading, his eyes fearful. "I don't know what she thinks she heard or from whom, but I have never tried to defraud you or take advantage of you."

"She is a _telepath_, Carmichael. What she heard came from your greedy, self-serving brain." Carmichael paled at the King's revelation. Nodding toward Rod and Vito he said, "Get him out of here, gentlemen. Make arrangements with our Steward to send him back to New Orleans." The two Lieutenants wasted no time in taking Carmichael by the arm, one on each side quickstepping him out of the ballroom. The eyes of guests at surrounding tables watched his exit.

"You haven't heard the end of this, bitch!" Carmichael shouted over his shoulder. Sookie's face registered no emotion, but the knot of anxiety that had been plaguing me seem to lessen slightly. The watching eyes now turned to de Castro for a reaction to Carmichael's threat.

"Revenge, my dear?" de Castro taunted either unaware or uncaring about his audience.

"Truth," Sookie replied coldly.

'You're not worried what I might do to him?" de Castro asked slyly, tauntingly. "People who try to take advantage of me don't usually live to tell the tale. I seem to remember that you don't like humans punished for transgressions against Vampires."

"Depends on the transgression," she said smoothly. "Has he already worked for you?"

"Not yet."

"Then…no harm, no foul," she said succinctly. Her direct gaze showed neither fear nor intimidation. Again, I found myself torn between pride and fear. Her courage could turn out to be a powerful aphrodisiac for de Castro or a challenge to his authority. Neither option would bode well for her.

"What should I do with him then?" the King asked. "If I let his intentions go unpunished then I will look weak." He wasn't really seeking her advice, he was testing her audacity.

"Men like Carmichael can be punished in lots of ways. Me? I like to get'em where it hurts." That direct gaze again. She was challenging him.

"Dare I ask where that is?" the King asked, greatly and genuinely amused. Sookie's eyes flicked downward in the direction of de Castro's lap before boldly bringing them back to his face. So far, he seemed to be more entertained than put off. I wondered how long it would last.

"Men like him," she said carefully, "their egos and their wallets are usually cheek by jowl…they're tied together. I'm sure a few well placed words from you would hurt his chances for future work throughout your kingdom."

"Ah…he should be a _living_ example of what happens when people try to take advantage of me. Yes?" The King made no effort how to hide much he was enjoying the banter with Sookie.

"It's a whole lot less messy," she offered casually, causing the King to laugh loudly and once again draw the stares of nearby guests. She did not laugh along with him.

All I could think about was history repeating itself. This was nearly the same conversation she'd had with Eric over what to do with the thief when she'd helped him find who stole money from him. While he'd been attracted by her beauty and valued her talent, it was her audacity and fearlessness that had been his primary turn on. De Castro however, would likely see those same bold qualities as a challenge to his authority; for him the turn on would be bringing her to heel. I was more afraid for her than ever.

"You will make a truly worthy companion for me, my dear. I knew I was right to claim you," he enthused laughingly. "Don't you agree, Mr. Compton?" he asked turning to me.

"I can't think of anyone that wouldn't be honored to have Sookie's companionship," I replied unsmilingly. The smug amusement dominating the King's face waned at his realization that my perspective of where the honor lay differed greatly from his. My neutral expression did not falter as he continued to stare at me, his expression growing increasingly displeased. I figured I had nothing to lose and his ire at me might deflect his attention from Sookie, even if for just a while.

"I wonder where Freyda and Eric are?" Rita questioned suddenly. "I thought they would have made their grand entrance by now." Her question lessened the tension that had blanketed the table.

De Castro held my gaze for a beat longer before answering her. "I'm sure Freyda wants to make sure everyone is present before she arrives," he said disdainfully. "She prefers a large audience." His glance came back to me, a lingering look of distrust and contempt hanging heavily in his expression. Sandy's return to the table was the only thing that seemed to finally divert his attention.

"Ah, Sandy. How was Freyda's buffet?" The King's tone indicated no real interest in her response.

"Just fine, your Majesty. The Queen has supplied a wide variety of willing donors." Sandy looked at me with a question in her eyes. I am sure she was wondering how the numbers around our table had gotten smaller.

"Better?" I asked quietly while standing to help her into her chair. Jeremy smirked and cocked his eyebrow mockingly at my apparently outmoded show of manners.

"Much." Her relaxed smile and rosy complexion told me that she had fed well.

Quiet conversation continued around the table as the orchestra played in the background, and the dance floor began to fill up. Sandy pointed out a busty blond among the donors and insinuated that I might like to partake since she '_looked a little like Sookie_' while Jeremy and Rita discussed the Arkansas economy and the impact of the election of a less than Vampire friendly human governor.

"Sheriff Ravenscroft hasn't checked in with me this evening," the King observed. "Has anyone seen her?" he asked.

"I saw her on her way to meet with Eric," Sandy offered, "but I haven't seen her since." Her helpful tone seemed to do nothing but irritate the King further.

Just then Rod and Vito returned to the table with Rod whispering something in de Castro's ear. The grim set of his mouth and curt nod indicated his displeasure at whatever he'd been told. Sookie continued to sit quietly swathed in a clear shell of detachment, responding only when spoken to. She didn't appear happy, sad or fearful…just present.

As I studied her I realized that unless you knew her it might appear that she was '_broken_,' that the strain from de Castro's ongoing threats and manipulation had simply become too much for her to handle. However, I didn't need our tenuous blood connection to know differently. She was neither broken as humans might assume, nor was she being the perfect pet as Vampires might believe. Instead, she was exercising the control of a lifetime spent veiling her reactions to every rude, vicious, salacious, self-serving malignant thought that her talent had exposed her to. As I considered her, almost as if she could read my thoughts, her eyes slide in my direction. For a brief moment, her detachment slid away as her face relaxed and her eyes regarded me affectionately. Just as quickly as I had been treated to the Sookie that I knew, the mask was put back in place and she became the disengaged beauty at de Castro's side. In that moment, I knew that Sookie was the strongest person in the room and I was fortified by her courage.

Guest after guest was announced. It looked like Freyda was sparing no expense and wanted a large gathering to witness her pledging to Eric. Stan Davis arrived with a relatively small contingent: Joseph Velasquez, his Second, Isabel Beaumont, his longest serving Sheriff, and Farrell, Stan's nest mate and the Vampire that Sookie helped rescue in Dallas. As Davis walked in he spotted our contingent and nodded in acknowledgment in the direction of our table. His nod had been for de Castro, but his eyes focused squarely on Sookie with a small smile teasing his lips. De Castro looked sharply at Sookie to gauge her reaction, but she gave none. Davis shifted his eyes to de Castro and offered a smirk before continuing on his way.

"It seems that you have an admirer," the King observed.

Waiting a fraction too long to tear her gaze off Davis' progress toward his table across the ballroom, she responded with a quick, cool nod and resigned smile. "I helped him in Dallas," was her only explanation.

Clearly displeased at her attention to Davis and her less than forthcoming response, the King stood to '_help'_ her out of her chair. "Let's dance, shall we?" Pain flashed across her face as he took her hand in a tight grip and led her to the dance floor.

The now all-too-familiar feeling of infuriated antagonism roared through me. The sound of pumping blood thundered in my ears and my fangs descended. Only the feel of Sandy's iron grip on my thigh kept me from leaping up to separate them. She understood as well as I the consequence of an open confrontation and had been ready to keep it from happening. As much as she might annoy me, her willingness to keep me in check probably saved my life. My quick glance at Rod and Vito, eyes fixed on me with mouths set in a grim line, proved it.

Once on the dance floor, the King roughly pulled her into his arms, their bodies pressed hard together from shoulder to knee, his arm banded tightly around her waist. His mouth worked furiously as he spoke directly into her ear, her neck canted back at a punishing angle. Each of his words was punctuated with cruel digs of his fingers into the bare skin of her back as they moved through the steps and changes of the tango, his nails leaving red half moons in her golden skin. Sookie's face never registered fear, alternating instead between anger, grimacing pain and contempt. My impotence clawed at me as I watched his hand move abruptly from her back to press the soft flesh of her right hip. Her mouth parted in surprise, her chest heaved as she sucked in a shocked breath, her brows drew together over eyes pained filled with pain.

The beautifully lit room, the low hum of conversation, the sounds of people moving about, chairs scraping across the floor, the clink of glasses being raised and drunk from, boisterous laughter from the humans…all of it…_all of it_ fell away as tunnel vision took over forcing me to watch de Castro's cruel treatment. The knot of shame and anger balled in my chest was joined by the feel of a hand pulling furiously on my arm. Absently, I tried to shake it off. Cruel pinching was added to the tugging that seemed to want to pull my arm from its socket. Whirling around fangs fully down I was confronted with Sandy's frantic face. Shocked and disoriented, I looked around. We were standing halfway between the dance floor and our table. Without realizing it, I'd left my seat and headed toward the churning dance floor and Sookie.

"What are you doing!" Sandy hissed, her voice fraught with panic, her eyes terrified.

I shook my head, trying to clear the red haze clouding my vision. I couldn't seem to make sense of Sandy's frightened face and death grip on my arm. I was breathing heavily from the adrenaline that had forced me to my feet and toward what would have been a certain confrontation in the crowded ballroom. I nearly staggered from the sudden drop in pressure as my adrenaline leveled out. For a moment, I couldn't seem to focus on what had brought me to this point, but then it came back to me like a hard punch in the gut: _Sookie._ I whipped around to try to locate her.

The dance had just ended. De Castro was standing with her on the edge of the dance floor holding her in a rigid embrace and swaying gently to the music of the next song. To all outward appearances they were a couple lost in each other, but closer examination showed a woman trapped in the arms of a monster. His left hand continually kneaded her hip, his right hand pressed on the small of her back. She winced with each flex of his fingers. She moved her hand from his shoulder to put it in the middle of his chest attempting to push him away, her efforts proved useless as he simply tightened his hold.

I had a clear view of her face while his was in profile. "_Stop it!"_ she mouthed, a sharp crease of agony between her eyes. He never broke his hold on her, but he did stop digging into her hip causing some of the pain to drain away from her face. The clamor of the crowd noise coupled with the music made hearing his response impossible. Sookie's eyes remained focused on his face; her mouth worked repeatedly asking him to let her go. Finally, she nodded and he relaxed his grip.

Sandy tugged on my arm once again, jerking her head in the direction of the table. I glanced over my shoulder. All of the table's occupants were focused on Sandy and me. Vito had risen to his feet as if to intervene. I looked back toward the dance floor to see the King and Sookie heading toward us. Common sense told me to go either back to the table or on to the dance floor, but the anger, anxiety and frustration that I'd woken with were pushing me to act.

The King's jocular smile belied his hard, angry eyes and rigid posture as he drew near. "Enjoy dancing, Bill?" My face was frozen; I could neither smile nor speak for fear of what I might say or do. As badly as I might want it, a grand gesture to challenge him would be fruitless and stupid, accomplishing nothing more than to leave Sookie more alone and more exposed than she already was. For now all I could do was swallow the bitter helplessness confronting me.

"Yes, your Majesty," Sandy answered quickly to cover my stony silence. The King spared her a glance and a dismissive smirk, but returned to me, fixing me with a hard, knowing glare. Sandy tugged on my arm, more gently this time, to guide us toward the dance floor.

"Now that I have your attention, sweet Sookie, see that it remains on me," he murmured quietly, threateningly to Sookie as they walked away. "Failure to do so may earn you some additional _reminders_. Rod or Vito would be most pleased to see to your training." Sookie responded with a slight gasp. I turned sharply to see him pull her into a kiss that was neither gentle nor romantic. He broke the kiss abruptly. A drop of blood beaded on Sookie's lip. De Castro caught my gaze and stared back at me with a fanged, triumphant grin. He kept his gaze locked on me as he smeared the bead of blood across Sookie's lips and ordered her to, "Put on a pretty smile."

I yanked my arm out of Sandy's grasp and started toward him. Once again, she grabbed hold and tugged me back toward the dance floor. "You need to back down," she said quietly; urgently. "Dance with me." I was prepped to ignore her, but Sookie's pleading expression stopped me. She was warning me off; her beautiful blue eyes begging me to go with Sandy. My will gave in to her, and I allowed Sandy to pull me toward the dance floor away from de Castro…..from Sookie.

"He is being deliberately cruel." I could barely choke the words out.

"What did you expect?" Sandy asked acidly. "He's holding all the cards. She won't openly defy him because of you and you can't challenge him out of fear of what he'll do to her."

We were standing on the edge of the dance floor. Another backward glance at Sookie showed her with no outward sign of fear, only annoyance and aggravation, _in extremis _as she rubbed the smeared blood away with a napkin. My fragile connection to her confirmed it: she was literally sick to death of de Castro's intimidation and threats, but there was no sign of fear. Bold to the point of recklessness she wore a fake smile that didn't even pretend to look genuine. For her own safety I wanted her to be more afraid of him. Until now, De Castro had been playing nice, but if she pushed him too far he might decide to up the ante of cruelty.

"Bill," Sandy said quietly, putting her hand on my face to turn it towards her, "look at me."

"What?" I snapped, turning my gaze back toward Sookie. I had no reserve of patience on which to draw and the last thing I wanted to do was dance with Sandy or listen to her try to placate me. My eyes could not turn away from the rigid figure of Sookie sitting passively at de Castro's side. She was physically present, but her detached stare and rigid posture told me that she had withdrawn into some internal place of strength and resolve.

"I am not stupid, Bill, no matter what you may think," Sandy sighed, finally reclaiming my attention. "There is no one at our table who doesn't know exactly how you feel about Sookie. De Castro knows it best of all. At least a part of what he is doing is rubbing your face in his dominion over her. He'll use _any_ excuse…" She looked away for a moment. When she turned back to me, her eyes were rimmed with threatening tears. "Don't give him a chance to end you." Looking at the obvious distress on her face, I really didn't know what to say.

In the absence of any response, she continued, "How much good do you think you will be if he ends you for treason, or because others will think him weak for not ending you for looking at his pet too often, or just because you have pissed him off one too many times?"

"He's going to end me anyway," I said matter-of-factly. "He'll keep me around only as long as I serve his purpose."

That truth of my increasingly tenuous existence had certainly become apparent to me on the plane even as he promised Sookie that her willing compliance would buy my survival. The truth of 'survival based upon continuing purpose' applied to almost every Vampire in almost every situation. Most Vampire monarchs had a real _'what have you done for me lately'_ attitude about their minions. As subordinates, we all understood that a sudden, unexpected end was not just a possibility; it was a distinct likelihood. I had learned that very little was gained or guaranteed by unwavering loyalty, obedience, or a King's regard. Belief in those things did nothing than make the final death blow a bit more of a surprise.

Watching de Castro with Sookie, knowing how much he wanted her and what he might do once he had her, forged my determination into steel. The cold certainty that I would remove any obstacle, sell out any ally, and kill whoever I needed to in order to get her away from him _calmed_ me. By the time this weekend was over, Sookie would be free from de Castro's grasp, or I would be dead. I had nothing left to lose.

Acceding to Sandy's insistent pleas, I guided her to the dance floor. We danced two numbers in silence as I spent that time looking at exits, trying to get a solid sense of the layout of the room, and calculating possible allies, opponents and unknowns among the assembled guests. The pledging ceremony and reception would be in this room tomorrow. I wanted to be able to move quickly if…_when_… the violence started.

As a third song started, my attention was drawn back to our table. Franklin Jarrett, Freyda's head of public relations was bent over de Castro's left shoulder and appeared to be whispering in his ear. De Castro stood, smoothed his jacket, said something to Sookie, and then gestured to Rod and Red Rita. They rose and followed the King and Jarrett out of the ballroom.

"It looks like our King has been called away," I alerted Sandy. I waited until the song ended and escorted her back to our seats. With Vito still in attendance at the table, I wouldn't be able to speak to Sookie directly, but I might be able to get a read on her frame of mind.

"Must be something to do with business," Sandy speculated as we walked. "If he needed muscle, he'd have taken Vito."

"What would it have been if he'd taken you?" I asked. She looked at me, trying to read my expression to gauge the reason for my question.

"I'm not sure I know," she sighed, "something computers or our accounting, I guess. I told you, he doesn't call on me for much anymore. After this he'll probably send me to one of his other holdings just to get me out of his hair. He seems to prefer the company of Rod and Vito"

Sookie, Vito, and Jeremy, Rita's second, were sitting in absolute silence as Sandy and I seated ourselves at the table. Pam still hadn't made an appearance. A waiter came by to offer blood while another right behind him offered Sookie champagne. She shook her head silently and resumed her quiet internal contemplation. We were an island of tense silence surrounded by a teaming ocean of party goers, Vampire and human alike.

An orchestral version of _'When the Sun Goes Down'_ by Kenny Chesney began playing. I looked across the table to see Sookie's eyes on me. My chest felt hollow as the hard knot of anxiety was lessened and became surrounded with the warmth of cherished memories. She loved this song not only for the irony of its title, but because it was one that we had danced to often in the early days of our relationship. Impulsively, I stood and offered her my hand.

"Bill!" Sandy hissed.

"I don't think so, Compton," Vito warned.

I ignored him and remained standing with my hand extended. Sookie looked at it for a moment before a genuine smile lit her face. She stood as I walked around the table to escort her to the dance floor.

"Sit down, Miss Stackhouse," Vito ordered, to which she responded with a death glare. He got up to insert himself between us before she could take my hand. "I told you to sit down. King's orders." I tensed seeing the familiar stubborn obstinacy settle hard on Sookie's features.

"How would your King like it if I make the loudest…nastiest…_ugliest_ scene you could possibly imagine? You think he might look weak? Like he can't control his pet? You think he wants that image plastered across everyone's eyeballs, becoming the main topic of conversation?" Her raised eyebrows and pointed glare never left Vito's face as she punctuated her questions with a broad sweep of her arm across the expanse of the ballroom. "Besides that," she continued clipping her words, "y'all are a bunch of damned gossips. How long would it take for the news to travel before even the European Kings would be laughing their asses off. "

"Shut. Up," Vito hissed. "He _**will**_ punish you for this."

"That may be," she acknowledged blithely, "but the bell still wouldn't be unrung. This whole room will know that de Castro can't control one human woman." Her voice was deadly calm; her eyes were clear, focused and intense. Every nuance of her posture said she was serious. "Ya' wanna risk it?" she drawled.

"I'll carry you out of here myself, you stupid cunt," Vito warned. Sookie just smiled.

"Sookie, please…" Sandy urgently begged.

"Get—out—of—my—way," Sookie demanded with laser-like focus and arctic cool.

Vito must have decided that Sookie had no intention of backing down. He turned to me. "Go back to your seat, Compton."

"The lady wants to dance," I replied.

"The King will have your head for this," he threatened.

"That may be," I shrugged, "but I feel like dancing. Sookie?" She reached around Vito and took my hand.

Apparently deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Vito stood aside to let me escort Sookie to the dance floor. As I passed him he grabbed my arm.

"This isn't over," he growled. "The King will hear about it and you _will_ be mine."

"As you will," I replied unconcernedly.

We reached the dance floor with just a few bars left in the song. Suddenly I realized that I felt more alive, more in _control_ than I had since we'd arrived in Oklahoma. I was sure that I was going to pay a hefty price for defying de Castro, but at this point I didn't care. I'd palmed the blood vial as we'd walked to the dance floor and now had a way to get it to her. Regardless of the punishment de Castro might choose to dole out, I'd know that I had at least been able to give Sookie some degree of strengthening through my blood.

I pulled her into my arms for the remaining bars of her favorite song and in so doing pressed the small, blood filled bottle into her palm. Her eyes widened slightly at the feel of the foreign object. "Work it into the sleeve of your dress before we return to the table," I said quietly.

"What it is it?" she whispered.

"Fortification," I replied with a smile. The cold, controlled mask she'd been wearing dissipated like a summer storm cloud. She smiled and became the beautiful, soft, golden woman that I knew, loved and trusted.

"We're probably gonna' pay for this," she said. The worry in her voice was unmistakeable.

"Me, more than you, most likely," I replied. The orchestra began 'Come Away with Me', another of Sookie's favorites. Its fervent message of longed for quiet escape resonated through me and made me wish that we could just walk out of here. I'd never wanted to leave my life behind so much as I did now. "Has he hurt you?" I asked. "Sandy said she heard the two of you arguing."

"My hip is a little sore from a sudden introduction to a wall," she replied. "It's got a pretty impressive bruise, but I'm okay." That must have been the hard thump that Sandy reported hearing from Sookie's bedroom the night before.

"What were you arguing about?" I questioned.

"He got a little too friendly, and then got pissed when his _charm_ didn't work on me. He threatened you again. Told me that I was all alone…that you were a coward…I shouldn't think Eric was going to rescue me. You know…the whole arch villain, Snidely Whiplash routine. I half expected him to tie me to railroad tracks and start twirling his mustache." I chuckled in spite of myself and in spite of our circumstances. How very like her to find humor when others would have been cowed and terrified.

"What did you do?" I asked even though I was pretty sure of the answer.

"I slapped the crap out of him," she said simply. "Called him a dishonorable, reneging bastard. That's when my hip had the abrupt meeting with the wall."

"Sookie, please don't antagonize him." She just harrumphed and rolled her eyes.

"He behaves; so will I," she asserted. "I go along, we—him and me—get along. That was the deal. I've already put on a show with Carmichael and if I hear of anything else along those lines, he'll be the first to know, but my compliance doesn't include access to my neck or my body." Her tone left no room for argument or opportunity to reason with her. We both became quiet as we moved to the music and retreated to our own mental corners.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly.

"Why?" I asked. "That was in your note. What are you sorry about?"

She looked away from me as tears began to rim her eyes. "For so many things."

"Sookie…" That feeling of panicked anticipation was building again.

"I sent a note to Freyda," she admitted. My arms tightened around her involuntarily.

"Bill…you're hurting me," she gasped. I loosened my grip immediately, but I had the purely human urge to vomit.

"What did it say?" I was afraid to know, but was certain that this was a game changer of the worst kind. I couldn't begin to imagine how to run damage control.

"I told her as much as I could, that he's on to her," she admitted. "I let her know that his is prepared for her." Her face carried the relief of the confessional.

"Why the fuck did you _do_ that, Sookie?" Her relief was balanced by my towering anger and escalated fear. "You put yourself in unbelievable danger. He'll _kill_ you if he finds out." So shocked at what she had done, I faltered in the dance coming almost to a stop.

"Keep dancing," she commanded sharply. "No he won't. He might hurt me, but he won't kill me."

"You can't know that." I hissed, dumbfounded by her casual, off-hand attitude.

"Yes, I do," she insisted. "He's prideful, covetous and vain…he won't destroy _his shiny new asset_." She paused and looked away. "His words, not mine."

"He will hurt you." Her eyelids flickered over knowing eyes. Knowledge of the possible consequences had done nothing to slow her down let alone _prevent_ her from putting herself in harm's way.

"I've been hurt before." Her simple words sliced through me dredging up the memories of gunshot wounds, beatings, torture, and rape. I held this soft, beautiful, loving woman in my arms not truly understanding how she had withstood it all. I was shamed before her courage and more afraid than ever.

"Dear God, Sookie! Why would you do that? What the fuck do you think it will accomplish?"

"I can't stand anymore useless bloodshed. I thought if she understood what he was trying to do, she wouldn't fall for the bait. Maybe we can just get through this weekend and go home." Her tone was colored by wishful hope. "Freyda gets Eric; de Castro goes home frustrated, but unchallenged. Nobody gets hurt. Win-Win,' she reasoned. She'd acted as if Vampires were rational and logical. They seldom were.

"What about when this is over? What then?" I demanded bitterly. "Do you think de Castro is just going to drop you off in Bon Tempz, give you a kiss on the cheek and go back to Las Vegas?" My voice was tense and nearly shrill, and I had to work to keep my voice down.

"One problem at a time, Bill, one problem at a time." Her words came out calmly, almost offhandedly, but her face registered something akin to fear for the first time tonight. _Good_, I thought to myself.

The song came to an end and the orchestra began to leave the stage to take a short break. Sookie and I walked back to the table. De Castro was waiting; his arm draped casually over Sookie's empty chair as he watched every step we took. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the murder in his eyes.


	23. Chapter 23: The Die is Cast

**Chapter 23: Choices**

**AN:** Once again, I find myself apologizing. First, for my ineptitude when it comes to making changes on . **Check to make sure that you have read Chapter 22 before you read this chapter, Chapter 23. **This is a long one, folks. So get comfy.

Second, it's been a long time between posts, almost four months. If you are still reading...thank you. I won't bore you with details, but the last weeks have been difficult as I struggled with writing. Honestly, I thought I was broken.

Thanks to all of you who (a) found, (b) read, (c) reviewed the last chapter, and finally (d) waited patiently for this chapter. Your perseverance and comments through reviews and PMs continue to inspire and encourage me. For those who have recommended this story to your friends, please accept my humble thanks.

Thank you, **Joy.** Always.

Charlaine Harris is the Maker and has all the rights. I own nothing except my imagination and the characters whose names you do not recognize.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously…<strong>

"_What about when this is over? What then?" I demanded bitterly. "Do you think de Castro is just going to drop you off in Bon Temps, give you a kiss on the cheek and go back to Las Vegas?" My voice was tense and nearly shrill, and I had to work to keep my voice down. _

"_One problem at a time, Bill, one problem at a time." Her words came out calmly, almost offhandedly, but her face registered something akin to fear for the first time tonight. 'Good,' I thought to myself. _

_The song came to an end and the orchestra began to leave the stage to take a short break. Sookie and I walked back to the table. De Castro was waiting; his arm draped casually over Sookie's empty chair as he watched every step we took. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the murder in his eyes._

**Friday Night continued: **

As we made our way back to the table, I looked down as if to button my jacket. "Let me do the talking," I whispered. Sookie stopped, gripping my arm tightly in refusal. Her face no longer carried any hint of fear, it was…_cold, determined._

"This," she said slowly, deliberately, "is about _me_. Let me handle him."

"_**No**_!" I hissed frantically.

"So far cooperating doesn't seem to have worked," she challenged.

"We've both defied him. Let me deflect some of his anger on to me." I paused in a vain attempt to control the roiling in my gut at the oil slick of violence radiating off of de Castro. "I'll heal, but he'll hurt you."

I understood de Castro all too well. This whole campaign to goad Freyda into attacking him was designed to feed his delusions of grandeur. A monarchy of three states was clearly not enough for him. Therefore any slight, real or imagined would undermine his fragile ego making him more determined to prove himself cock of the walk.

"That's exactly what I am trying to stop," she said softly as we paused to let a large group pass, "for both of us."

"Sookie, please," I pleaded.

"I _**said**_, leave it to me." Angry now, she yanked her arm from mine, picked up her skirt and quickened her pace back to the table. I had no choice but to hurry after her.

We hadn't quite reached the table when de Castro rose to his feet, his face and body seemingly at war with one another: the languid half smile was incongruous to his rigid posture and fisted hands. Vito's face bore a smile of malicious anticipation, Rod's was carefully neutral and Sandy simply looked horrified, her eyes bouncing between de Castro, Sookie and me. Vampires don't breathe, but the entire two tables of de Castro's retinue seemed to be holding their breath in anticipation of the King's reaction to Sookie's and my act of defiance.

As she reached the table, Sookie's left hand reached out for de Castro. I could only watch in amazed apprehension. At first, de Castro seemed startled and reflexively pulled her into an embrace, his face registering the shock rocketing through me. To all appearances, Sookie was the devoted pet hurrying back to the safety of her lover's embrace. No one would suspect that she was a woman held captive by his threats.

"Don't make a scene," she murmured urgently as she reached up to caress his cheek, her thumb sweeping gently across his cheek. "Please," she pleaded softly.

De Castro's shocked expression quickly hardened into wary suspicion. His spontaneous lover's embrace turned to one of possession. His right hand went to her ass pulling her into his groin while his left splayed across her back trapping her arms and pressing her breasts to his chest. She had to strain to look into his eyes.

"Do you enjoy making me look weak?" He drawled indolently as his head dropped to her neck, his nose skimming her flesh as he inhaled deeply in an act of lewd possessiveness. My gut churned as I watched his hand drift lower making a show of his dominance; his knuckles whitening with the effort of digging into the soft flesh of her ass and dragging her pelvis into direct contact with his. There seemed to be a heightened, almost frantic intensity to his actions.

_What had happened in his meeting outside the ballroom?_ I wondered.

"You will only look weak if you choose it," she said evenly, not bothering to struggle. "You can look like a King who's got the loyalty of his subjects and the affection of his pet or you can look like a schoolyard bully."

"There is satisfaction in being the bully," he crooned, a mean smirk hardening his mouth.

"But it also sets you up off to get picked off," she warned. "Nobody likes a bully,"

"Would you care to tell my why you defied Vito's order to remain here until I returned?" The question was asked with casual menace. I glanced at Vito. Feeling my stare, he turned his flat, dark eyes to me and smiled with calculated anticipation of my impending pain. I smirked in response and offered an insolent, one-shouldered shrug.

"Two reasons," she said softly. "First, I like to dance, and second if you want me to do what you wanted, then it would be better for me to be out there," she said gesturing with her head toward the dance floor. "There is not much to 'hear' surrounded by your people."

"Well then," de Castro drawled, "why don't we go somewhere more private so that you can tell me all about what you _heard_?" He abruptly released her from his possessive embrace, but maintained a tight grip on her right wrist as he began to lead her away.

"You weren't invited, asshole," Vito growled as he jerked me backward. "You and I will have a date a little later, yes?"

De Castro paused casting a glance over his shoulder and jerking his head sharply in the direction of the private 'dining rooms'. The King and Sookie, Rod, Vito, Sandy and I walked in a tight, tense group down the empty hallway to the salon at the end, Sookie struggling to keep up with de Castro's long, brisk stride. Rod zipped past the two of them to secure the room.

When he indicated that it was empty we entered. There was a click. Rob locked the door behind us. That could only mean one thing, de Castro wanted privacy. Did he expect a report from Sookie? She glanced toward me and met my eyes. We both knew she hadn't been _listening_ for information.

Suddenly, De Castro pushed Sookie down on to the sofa and stood over her while Rod and Vito took up their positions on either side of the locked door. Sandy gripped my wrist painfully. As I tried to jerk it away, she mouthed the word '_please_' and begged me with her eyes to not draw de Castro's notice. I allowed her to tow me to the wall out of de Castro's line of site.

The King sat next to Sookie where he cupped the back of her neck and jerked her up to where her face was just inches from his own, "Tell me why I shouldn't drain you and end Compton," he demanded menace and anger oozing silkily off of him. "Do you think you are so valuable that I would allow you to embarrass me?

"I told you," she replied shakily, "you are only as embarrassed as you want to be." She continued to hold his gaze, but the slight tremor in her voice revealed her fear.

"Vampire Kings do not allow their pets to be manhandled in public, especially by their subordinates. Did you think I would let this go unnoticed?"

"You wanted me to listen, I listened." Bitterness and defiance had momentarily taken the place of fear. "You wanted me to find reasons for you to show me off. I've done that. It's up to you how you play it."

"How should I _'play it'_ as you say when you are flaunting yourself on the dance floor with my underling?" He cast a long considering look in my direction. "I should kill him for that." Slowly, his gaze returned to Sookie. He remained silent for a long, tense moment as he considered his next course of action.

"Suppose I want to _'play it'_, so that you are a _dutiful_ pet?" He proposed. "One who attends to me, who smiles for me, who dances with me and only me." His grip around her neck tightened, leaning her away from him to swipe his thumb across her lips before trailing his splayed fingers suggestively down the open neckline of her dress. "Perhaps, _I_ want your smiles and your caresses." He leaned in and buried his face in her neck, breathing her in as a drowning man seeks air. "Perhaps I want the feel of your body as it moves against mine."

"I thought you wanted Oklahoma," Sookie said beginning to squirm, her eyes darting around the room in search of mine. My insides quivered with her rising panic.

"Oh, but I do. However, I've discovered that I want you as well," he murmured in a soft purr. "You intrigue me...challenge me...I find myself _charmed_ by you." Sookie began to push back at him as his fingers strayed beneath the lace of her neckline. The more she struggled, the tighter his grip, the more aggressive his touch. Tears of pain and humiliation welled in her eyes.

Revulsion and hatred twisted my insides. "De Castro!" I boomed yanking my wrist out of Sandy's grip. "Let her go." Before I could take another step, I was face down on the floor; my arms and elbows pulled up behind my back; the full weight of Vito's body concentrated in his knee as it pressed into my spine between my shoulder blades. My efforts to get him off of me were wasted as I fought against the escalating pain and his weight. He jerked my head up by my hair. The angle gave me a clear view of de Castro's continued assault on Sookie.

"Stop it," she gasped as she pushed frantically, but ineffectually against his shoulders. "This wasn't part of the deal." Sookie's voice shook with the effort to speak while trying to fend off de Castro's hands. "You wouldn't like me for long. Please...," her plea trailed off in a panicked squeak as his hands dipped far enough into her dress to take hold of her breast and squeeze it cruelly. Her tears spilled over, shining wetly on her cheeks as her face registered shame, anger and revulsion. Her eyes looked about wildly for me.

My struggling intensified. My efforts to unseat Vito were as ineffective as my efforts to protect Sookie had been. I had never felt as emasculated as I did in that moment. The woman I loved, the woman I had vowed to protect was helpless against de Castro's continued assault and there was nothing I could do about it.

Sandy dropped down on her knees next to me whispering frantically, "Bill, please... he's not going to hurt her." Before I could respond pain exploded behind my eyes. My head snapped violently to the right.

"Did you think to challenge me, Compton?"

Another hard kick to the head, and my vision blurred for a few seconds. When I could see again, my blood was spattered on the tip of de Castro's highly polished boot. "Do you think you can _beat...me_?" he growled; the last two words punctuated by hard blows to my head and ribcage. The dry, crunching sound of walking on peanut shells signaled that my ribs were broken.

"You can't wield a sword worth a damn Compton, and you stand no chance against me in a hand to hand fight. You'd be smart to just lie still and take your punishment quietly. You might survive."

The brief seconds between his blows were punctuated by Sookie's screams and Sandy's pleas for him to stop. Vito grunted slightly as he struggled to hold me in place against the violence of de Castro's blows. A red haze clouded my vision and I could taste the cool, coppery liquid as it seeped between my bloodied lips.

Suddenly the blows stopped.

The silence was broken by the sound of a hard slap and a body hitting the floor with a fleshy sounding flop. I managed to pick my head up enough to see de Castro, fists clenched, standing over Sandy as she lay in a heap of yellow silk, bleeding from her nose and mouth.

"I told you to keep him in check," de Castro snarled. "As usual, you failed and thus have managed to exceed your previous worthlessness." Something hardened in Sandy's eyes as he returned his attentions back to me. In that moment and with a ready weapon I was sure she would have tried to stake him.

De Castro took a few steps to stand over me. Grabbing a handful of my hair he yanked my head up to a punishing angle. "Did you think you could _save_ her from me, Compton?" When I remained silent, he laughed mockingly and shoved my face into the floor. A low crunching sound from within me echoed in my ears. The nose I'd managed to save from Eric's wrath the night before succumbed to de Castro's brutality and added to the sticky pool of blood on the floor.

Exquisite pain lanced through me again as I was hauled to my feet supported on either side by Vito and Rod. De Castro came within mere inches of my face. "I never liked you, you know," he growled, hatred in his tone and violence in his eyes.

Before I could respond in kind the blade of his sword slashed across my face. Blood poured from the gash and spilled onto my shirt front. The only sound in the room was Sookie's scream and the sound of her heels as she rushed forward. De Castro's attempt to slash at me again was stalled. Sookie dragged at his raised arm.

"Stop it...please. It was just a damn dance,"" she begged between sobs. "I've cooperated. He's cooperated. What more do you want from us?"

De Castro lowered his armed slowly and turned toward her. "The terms have changed," he said menacingly jerking his head in my direction. "He is no longer part of the deal. You will do as I say simply because I say it."

"No," she clipped. "You leave him alone or you get _**nothing **_from me." Sookie stepped back, wiped the gathered tears from her cheeks and looked at him defiantly. There was not an ounce of give in either her posture or expression.

"Sookie, leave him to it," I begged quietly, hating how weak my voice sounded. He was clearly unwilling to hurt Sookie at least at this point, but he still needed to salve his wounded pride and wield his dominance over someone. I would willingly take the brunt of his ego-fueled cruelty if it kept Sookie from further harm.

De Castro snorted derisively. "You think I can't make you heel, Miss Stackhouse," he countered looming over her.

She raised her chin and held his gaze. Even now, outnumbered and against the odds, she was challenging him to divert attention from me. I prayed that she would not pay for it.

"You can try," she replied, her tone cool and mocking.

"You don't think I have ways to make you behave?" The detached menace of his tone worried me. He was unused to being challenged. "I can, and I will bring you to heel."

"I've been raped, shot, staked, nearly drained and tortured since I took up with Vampires. I know what you're capable of." She took a step forward working to match his attempt at intimidation. "I've already told you, I will work for you. I will report to you any who would cheat you or those close to you, but I will not be threatened, bullied or intimidated. That includes threatening or harming those I care about."

"Brave words for a human," de Castro countered cruelly. "You hold no cards here."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that if I were you." Sookie's raised eyebrow and calm belied the fear I could feel vibrating within her through the blood exchange we had shared earlier.

De Castro grunted his disbelief. A cruel, smarmy smile decorated his lips. "Do tell," he smirked, nodding sharply at Rod and Vito. They let go of me letting me drop to the floor.

I raised my head to look up at Sookie. Worry for her safety warred with relief that the King's attention had been temporarily turned away from me.

"Theres a buncha' folks out there who know me," she offered. "Other kings, sheriffs, even though she's not here, the Ancient Pythoness knows me. If I look too unhappy there are those who might challenge you. If I am useful to you, I am also useful to them."

"You are my pet," de Castro hooted on a burst of derisive laughter. "No Vampire challenges another for a pet. They wouldn't dare."

"Isn't that exactly what you are trying to get Freyda to do? If you think parading me around is going to push her to act against you, what's to say some other king won't do the same?" She paused, seeming to gather herself. "Look, you don't have to do anything. I'm your asset," she persuaded, her voice softening becoming conciliatory. "I've already agreed to work for you anytime you want."

Sookie's near breathless attempt to appeal to de Castro's sense of reason was based in altruistic human ideals and logic, proving that she would never understand most Vampires' need for power, possessions and influence. De Castro seemed to need it more than most. I was certain that her attempts to dissuade him from further violence would fall on deaf ears.

"Suppose I believe that a good offense is the best defense?" de Castro countered.

"If you are so afraid that Freyda is going to try to take you over, wait for her to make the first move," she argued. "Don't push her into it; let her be the bully. That way you're likely to pick up friends and allies, and fewer enemies."

"I think I still prefer my plan," he countered with an off-hand coldness that proved the futility of Sookie's attempts to appeal to his reason. "Now, Mr. Compton, where were we?"

"You were being a short sighted, vicious ass-hole," I murmured. I heard a sharp inhalation of breath at my remark. Whether it was Sookie's or Sandy's, I couldn't be sure.

"Get him on his feet," de Castro barked.

I struggled to rise on my own and was nearly there when Rod kicked my legs out from under me. I crashed to my knees.

"I changed my mind," de Castro snarled. "I want you on your knees. Maybe then you will know that I am your King." He lowered himself onto one knee next to me, twirling a small Knight's dagger between his fingers like a lethal baton.

There was a certain irony in his choice of blade. The short dagger was often used to deliver the coup de grace to mortally wounded knights. I had no doubt that that was his intention for me. Painfully, I turned my head to look at Sookie. Her tear-stained white face showed me that she thought the same thing.

As Rod and Vito once again grasped my arms behind me, de Castro grabbed my hair and yanked my head backward exposing my throat. "I think I'll cut you here," he said matter-of-factly. He might have been describing how to debone a chicken. My flesh seared as de Castro moved the broad, flat side of the silver blade along my neck from just below my ear to the base of my throat.

"Please," Sookie wailed. "Please..."

Straining my gaze, I could just make her out. Her face was contorted into a mask of pain and fear; the knuckles of her right hand were clenched to her mouth; her left arm was wrapped tightly around her waist as if she was trying to keep herself from flying apart.

"Your Majesty," Sandy began, "I promise I'll do better..."

Vito laughed and slapped her with the back of his free hand. The force made her take several steps backward.

Suddenly the flat of the knife at my throat turned on its edge as de Castro began to slice unhurriedly through the flesh of my throat. My fangs cut through my tongue as I fought to keep from screaming. Cool blood oozed from my carotid artery to trickle into my collar and down my chest. My eyes flickered to Sookie and my heart broke. A torrent of tears marred her beautiful face while her head moved slowly from side to side in denial and rejection of what she was witnessing. I longed to tell her how much I loved her, how badly I wanted to protect her, how sorry I was to have dragged her into my world. I hoped my look was enough. If I was to meet my final death, I wanted her face to be my final vision.

"Stop!" Sookie cried. "I'll do whatever you want. Just stop..._please_!" Her plea ended in a sobbing wail.

Miraculously, the cutting stopped and de Castro rose to his feet as my head fell forward. I would have collapsed had Rod's and Vito's unrelenting grip on my arms not held me in place. I raised my head to see de Castro sprawled on the couch, his knife hand dangling over the arm of the sofa holding the blade stained with my blood.

"Alright," de Castro said, triumph, covetousness and lust waging war for dominance in his expression.

"What do you want?" Sookie asked swallowing convulsively, her hands shaking as she wiped more tears from her face. She knew that the price for my continued existence was her total cooperation. Her eyes darted nervously to me; her body trembling as her arms crossed over her waist in an unthinking movement of self protection. She knew that de Castro would likely demand acts of _cooperation_ far beyond her telepathy.

"You," came de Castro's simple response. "I want you. I want you to willingly take my blood, and I will refresh myself from you. Right. Now."

Sookie began to shake her head in frightened refusal. She took a halting step backward. "If that is what you want, why haven't you just taken it before now?"

_Good question_, I thought to myself. I never doubted that he'd try to bring Sookie to his side, but I wondered at the sudden urgency.

"I am unaccustomed to _taking_ what I want. Most offer it to me freely."

Ah...that answered my question. De Castro's ego wouldn't allow him to physically force Sookie to his side. Instead he'd chosen to use me as the conduit for her cooperation.

Taking a quick step forward, he grabbed her left arm and pulled her into an embrace. His fangs clicked into place, and his eyes alit with anticipation. With his free hand, he angled her head so that her throat was exposed. Sookie shuddered, her throat working convulsively as she tried to swallow her revulsion.

"Sookie, no," I said weakly. "Please don't barter yourself for me. His word means _nothing_." The last word was barely out of my mouth before I found myself on my back with de Castro's booted foot on my throat.

"Shut. Your. Mouth," he hissed. "Or your tongue will be next." He delivered a kick to my head. I heard rather than saw him return to Sookie.

"Shall we, my dear?" he said silkily. I looked up to see de Castro holding both his arms out toward her. On trembling legs, she stepped forward into his embrace. He reached up and removed the infinity necklace from her neck and pocketed it. "So beautiful," he murmured as he ran his fingers over the column of her neck.

"Vainglorious asshole," I spat, throwing every epithet I could think of to forestall his drinking from Sookie. "Hypocrite, liar, bastard, _**coward**_." Without a word, Rod pried my jaw open, and Vito reached in to grasp hold of my tongue, effectively ending my tirade.

I could see de Castro's blade gleaming wetly in the low lighting.

"Your majesty, please don't do this to him." Sandy fell on her knees next to my head. "I can keep him quiet. I'm begging you. Please..."

De Castro's eyes slid from Rod to Vito and finally to Sandy. "Another word out of him and YOU will end him," he said viciously. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Majesty," Sandy said quickly, submissively. "Thank you."

With that Rod and Vito resumed their places on either side of the door and Sandy pulled my head into her lap. She placed her right hand firmly over my mouth and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "He will make me kill you. Please, I'm begging you, be quiet." Her left hand cradled my chin firmly, holding my mouth shut. The position afforded me an unobstructed view of de Castro's assault on Sookie.

She was back in his embrace. His tongue flicked out between his extended fangs and full lips to trace the carotid artery in her neck. Sookie's tightly closed eyes and trembling communicated her fear as his tongue continued its path to the hollow of her throat and back up to the sensitive spot just below her ear. He was deriving as much pleasure from his current torturous teasing as he was anticipating the taste of Sookie's blood.

"Put your arms around me," he commanded.

Slowly, hesitantly Sookie's arms left her sides to slide around his waist in a reluctant embrace. Then, without any warning or further preparation he struck, biting hard into Sookie's carotid artery at the midpoint between her neck and shoulder. She stiffened and cried out. De Castro's hand flew to her head, his fingers tangling in her hair to pull it, further exposing her neck.

I began struggling to free myself from Sandy's hold, but her grip and my weakened state kept me in check. Helplessly I watched as he gorged himself on her. Rage and shame consumed every part of me.

Held in an iron embrace, Sookie's hand's fisted in the back of his jacket, pulling frantically. De Castro's throaty groans reverberated in the room as her thick, sweet blood coated his tongue and mouth. He was pulling so voraciously, a small trickle of her blood escaped the vacuum of his mouth and seeped down his chin. I watched it drip onto Sookie's chest and trickle obscenely between her breasts.

"Please..._too much_," she cried weakly. Her strangled plea fell on deaf ears as de Castro continued to pull greedily from her neck. Sookie's knees started to buckle and her ineffectual flailing at his back grew more sporadic until it stopped altogether.

Rod stepped forward from his place by the door. "Your Majesty," he said softly.

Slowly, reluctantly, dreamily de Castro relaxed his jaw, retracted his fangs and pulled back from Sookie's neck. His movements were slow and deliberate like a drunk striving to appear normal. He looked at me with a bemused smiled. "I get it now," he said before returning his gaze to Sookie. Abruptly he sat down on the couch pulling her down next to him. Judging from the tented bulge in the front of his slacks he was loath to lose contact.

Sookie's head lolled onto his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her shoulders supporting her. He reached down and pulled her legs bridal style across his. The room was quiet save for Sookie's shallow breathing.

My worst fear had been realized: one taste of Sookie's blood had been enough to seal her fate. Her beauty and the usefulness of her telepathy combined with the peerless taste of her blood would be irresistible for de Castro. Unless something happened this weekend to stem his avarice and desire for political conquest, she would have no hope of seeing her home, her friends or her family again. He would take her directly back to Nevada, bond with her and then turn her. The knowledge that I would likely never see her again overwhelmed me. My struggling resumed.

"Let him go, Sandy," de Castro ordered. I fought to get up, getting only as far as my knees.

"I used to ask myself," de Castro mused, his eyes narrowed and his mouth pursed into a little moue. "What is it that keeps you and Northman so _enamored_ of her? Is she that good of a lay? Is it her telepathy?" Looking at the limp woman in his arms, he said, "But I get it now."

It seemed that all of his anger at me had drained away to be replaced by his compulsion to have the captive in his arms. He wanted her now as more than bait and for far more than her talent. I felt sure that he would allow no one or anything to get in the way of him having her.

"Eric might think differently," I croaked, my voice husky from my windpipe being nearly crushed.

"Oh, I think he has much more to worry about than our little Miss Stackhouse," he said cryptically. As usual he was underestimating not only Eric's hatred and scorn, but also his ability to act on those two strong emotions. "Besides," he continued, "you will be my witness that she walked willingly into my arms."

"How can you possibly say it was willing?" I objected. In my weakness, I'd slumped forward so that I was resting on all fours.

"She had a choice," he countered smoothly. "Not a good one I suspect she'd say, but a choice nevertheless. She could have let you die." His sarcastic tone and frigid sneer indicated his preferences. "As for Eric...they have no bond and they are not pledged. She is an asset of my kingdom." He continued with a cold smile of vindication firmly affixed to his face, "So you see, Mr. Compton...the rules are on _**my**_ side."

"I don't think Eric cares much for _rules_," I countered. I was struggling against the pain to maintain some degree of lucidity.

"Then let him come after me," the King said offhandedly. "As my sweet, perceptive Sookie said, he'll be the aggressor with no leg to stand on. _I_ will be the victim; _I_ will gain allies. Who knows?" he queried. "I may even gain another kingdom. It's good to have the rules on your side."

Struggling against the pain of a broken jaw I offered a less than obeisant rejoinder. "If all of your sparring partners are as poor as you say I am, then you don't stand a chance against Eric. He'll relieve you of your head with less effort than it takes to lower his fangs. You should probably get some practice in."

A swift cloud of anger darkened de Castro's face, but it was quickly replaced a smug grin. "I think we are suitably matched." He shrugged, supremely confident in his swordsmanship.

Bored with me, he turned his attention to Sookie. I watched as he squashed her into his chest by reaching around her shoulders to loosen the cuff of his shirt and push up both his shirt and jacket sleeve. He bit hard into his left wrist, opened a substantial wound and brought it swiftly to her mouth. "Drink," he ordered.

She rolled her head away and began struggling to pull away from him. He tightened his grasp and jerked his head in my direction. "Ah, I see you need a little incentive," he said. Grasping Sookie's chin he jerked her head so that she could see me. "Watch," he commanded her.

Once again I found myself on my knees with the tip of the silver blade of de Castro's dagger pressed into my slowly healing neck. The smell of my burning flesh began to permeate the room as the knife reopened the wound. I closed my eyes willing myself not to cry out.

"Open your eyes, Mr. Compton. Surely, you want to gaze upon the lovely Miss Stackhouse as you depart this life."

My eyes opened to see Sookie resolutely take de Castro's wrist in her two hands, bring it to her mouth and begin to drink. She kept her eyes on me throughout. I could see and feel her fear; I could imagine her loathing at taking de Castro's blood, knowing that it would give him intolerable dominion over her. In that moment, I wanted Vito to end me. De Castro wouldn't ever stop using me as leverage against her. Once again, I had become the instrument of Sookie's pain and subjugation.

I lurched forward with what little strength I had left. If I was to finally die, I would at least choose it, be in control of it. The knife slid deeply, smoothly into my throat. The sound and feel of the knife point on bone let me know that my efforts had been productive. It had been surprisingly easy. One more push and my use as an instrument of Sookie's torture as well as my very existence would be ended. I closed my eyes and prepared to meet my end.

"You aren't getting off that easy, Compton," de Castro snarled jerking the knife out of my throat, "especially not when I have finally found a solid use for you. Rod. Vito. Take Mr. Compton back to his room. Use the side door. I wouldn't want to upset our hosts or their guests."

Unable to help Sookie and unable to end myself, my impotence knew no bounds. The two lieutenants dragged me to my feet. My head hung loosely from my shoulders, blood continuing to drip from the gashes in my face and neck.

"Oh, by the way Bill, I think you misplaced something," de Castro said sarcastically. He lifted my chin with one hand and between the thumb and index finger of the other was the small bottle of my blood that Sookie had hidden in the sleeve of her dress. "Miss Stackhouse won't need this. I'll be giving her all the blood she needs." He laughed as he uncapped the bottle and poured it into the sizeable pool of blood at my feet. "Take him away, gentlemen.

"Sandy," he continued, "I will escort Miss Stackhouse back to our room to freshen up." He glanced around the room disdainfully before adding, "Clean this mess up. We don't want to insult our hosts." With that he picked up Sookie in his arms andexited the side door to the outside of the ballroom with Vito and Rod dragging me stumbling along behind. Having had his blood, Sookie would have been capable of walking on her own, but de Castro was determined to keep her in her place. It was not an act of chivalry; it was an act of dominance.

I'd lost track of time, but it didn't seem to take long to get back to the residences. Rod fished for the electronic key to my room and opened the door. Vito pushed me unceremoniously inside. "That'll teach you to fuck with the wrong King, Compton. Watch your step or I'll 'help' you end yourself." He laughed and started to close the door.

"Your King wants me alive, remember?" I said weakly.

"I operate on the philosophy that it's better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission," Vito explained coolly. "Step out of line, and I don't think I'll have to beg too hard. Clean yourself up," he ordered. "He'll want you back in the ballroom." The door closed leaving me on the tiled floor in the small foyer of my room.

Physically, I was in bad shape. The gashes across my face and neck didn't seem to be healing; my ribs and the bones in my face ached from their effort to knit themselves together. I was sure that my nose was broken and that my skull was fractured. It wasn't the worst beating I'd ever had, but it was certainly very close.

The physical pain was minor compared to the absolute anguish of seeing Sookie in de Castro's arms and now solidly under the influence of his blood. Worst of all was the knowledge that I had been the leverage that he'd used to get her there. I'd never hated myself more.

My self –hatred gave me the strength to push myself up to a near sitting position against the wall just inside the door. I needed blood. I crawled to the small refrigerator in the bar and found two bottles of Royalty Blended. I drank both bottles greedily not bothering to warm them. Freyda was going to have a hell of a bar bill based upon my consumption alone.

I lay back down on the floor hoping that the blood would speed the healing process. Somehow I had to get word to Eric about what de Castro had done. I could do that only if I could get back to the ballroom or get away from Sandy. The image of de Castro feeding from Sookie, growing hard as he fed from her and she from him caused my stomach to cramp threatening the loss of the blood I had just consumed. I rolled into a fetal position willing my stomach to settle and the images to retreat at least for a moment.

The door between Sandy's room and mine opened, and I could hear the sound of her footsteps and the swish of her skirt. Someone was with her. "Bill," she said urgently, crouching down next to me. She wrapped her arms around me, encouraging me to sit up. "You need to feed. I've brought a donor." Her eyes shone with concern; the hem of her dress spattered with blood.

I looked up into the wide, frightened eyes of a young girl who looked to be about nineteen or twenty. Her small features and thin, delicate frame made her look virginal in the donors' uniform of white dress and red wrist corsage. She was AB positive, one of the rarest and most sought after blood types. Sandy must have figured I earned a reward.

"You'll have to get down on the floor next to him," Sandy barked reaching up to grab the girl's wrist and jerking her roughly down to her knees.

"Sandy," I said faintly, "be kind. She is doing me a service."

"Not fast enough" she said worriedly. "Give him your wrist, girl." The young woman looked fearfully back at Sandy and then turned large, expressive brown eyes to me before holding out her trembling arm.

"I've been hurt," I told her quietly, "but I won't hurt you." I caught her eyes and hoped that I was strong enough for my glamour to calm her justifiable fears. "Will you trust me?" Riveted to my gaze she nodded her head slowly. My glamour took hold. The trembling in her arm ceased. A small, slightly dazed smile decorated her face.

Unfortunately the blood in the radial artery couldn't deliver the blood as fast as I needed it. "I am going to need to drink from your neck," I explained as soothingly as my weak voice would allow. "Would that be alright with you?" I got a trusting nod.

Sandy helped me to a more comfortable sitting position against the wall. "What is your name?" I asked her.

"Monica," she replied in a girlish, detached voice.

"Monica, would you mind if I held you in my arms?" I asked. Her pleased smile and bobbing nod told me that she was still in the thrall of my glamour. Hopefully it would hold until I finished feeding and could heal her.

She hiked up her long white dress and walked on her knees until she was next to me. I pulled her into my arms until she was sitting bridal style across my lap. "Have you ever had a Vampire feed from your neck before?" I asked. A slight shimmer of fear scudded across her eyes as she shook her head. "You will feel a little pinch," I told her, "but that will be the worst of it. Alright?" Again, she gave me the shy little girl smile and a quick nod.

Before my energy or the effects of my glamour ran out, I situated Monica so that she was reclining against my arm with her head turned into my shoulder. I leaned down, licked her neck a few times to bring the blood to the surface and bit. She jumped slightly and then relaxed into my arms. I took three long pulls from her neck, withdrew my fangs and then proceed to seal the wounds.

"Bill that's not nearly enough," Sandy said urgently. "You need to take more. She's healthy and can take it."

"I've taken all I need. Heal her wound for me." My voice still sounded weak even to my own ears.

"No, you need more from her or I'll go get another donor," she argued. She was wringing her hands and pacing in short, angry strides in front of me, the blood spattered hem of her silk skirt swishing furiously.

"Then take her back and get another donor," I said impatiently. With that she jerked the girl to her feet. Sandy pricked her thumb and rubbed her healing blood roughly over the puncture wounds as the girl began to come back to herself looking around slowly, vaguely disoriented.

"Thank you, Monica," I said. "You were very helpful." She looked at me and then at both wrists in confusion. Her hands then flew to her neck feeling for puncture wounds. "Ms. Seacrest healed you," I hurried to reassure her. "You're too pretty to go around looking like a pincushion." I smiled hoping that my small joke would lessen her anxiety.

"Uh, you're welcome, I guess," she said shyly, confusion still evident. "Do you feel better?" Concern pinched her pretty face.

_No. Not at all_. I thought.

"A little, thank you," I lied.

Sandy took Monica's arm more roughly than I thought necessary to lead her out. Before the closing door blocked me from her view, the girl cast one last concerned look over her shoulder. I smiled trying to reassure her and thanked her again for her efforts.

Finally alone and able to focus on something other than pain, I sought Sookie through the tenuous connection of my blood. Nothing. No feelings, no impressions, no sense of her whereabouts or state of mind. It was as if she no longer existed. A hollow numbness occupied the place where our fragile connection had been. I was more frantic than ever to get back to the ballroom.

I struggled to my feet and managed to make it to the bathroom. Monica's blood had helped more than I thought, but I saw also that Sandy had been right: I did need more blood. The cuts, while not actively bleeding weren't healing. My skin carried the same gray pallor as when I had gotten silver poisoning during Sookie's recue from the fairies. It had taken regular draughts of Judith's blood and several months to recover from that. I could only hope that another infusion of clean human blood would help.

I stripped off my jacket and bloodied shirt just as Sandy reentered my room. This time she had a young man in tow.

"He hasn't donated tonight," she said nudging the young man toward me. Thus was her unspoken message that I should take more than normal from him. She was determined to see that I feed heartily.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Anthony," he replied his face lighting up in a wide disarming smile. "May I take off my shirt and jacket?" he asked suddenly. When I raised my eyebrows in surprise, he elaborated, "She told me that you wanted to feed from my neck." When I nodded, he took off his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt; his movements smooth, practiced and unhurried as he held my gaze throughout. I began to feel that he might be expecting to perform more than just blood donation services.

"How do you want me?" he asked. His lips parted slightly as his tongue darted out to sweep quickly across his lower lip. The slow scan of my body from head to toe was both clear invitation and carnal offering. "No, offense," he said dropping his voice seductively, "but you don't look too good. Do you want to do this lying down?" His eyes were alight with promise as he looked beyond me to the bed.

From the fair number of fang marks on his neck and upper torso, I could see that he was no stranger to a Vampire's bite. Nor was it a stretch to imagine that he might offer a wide range of _services_ to his clients, well beyond those of donor. His apparent comfort in being alone with two Vampires along with the double entendre of his initial question and coy smile seemed to confirm his desire to experience all things Vampire. Clearly he wanted to be a pet. Even if he was told what all that might entail, I was fairly sure that he wouldn't want or act differently.

"Stand," I replied brusquely, "with your back to me." With a nod and even more brazen smile he turned around slowly as if to display his not inconsiderable assets and waited for me to approach him.

I came up behind him and wrapped my left arm around him and took hold of his chin. He nestled against my chest and obediently tilted his head to the left effectively exposing his throat. My right arm wrapped around his waist to steady him leaving his arms to hang loosely by his sides. I would soon learn that this was a mistake, but it was the least suggestive position that I knew.

"Are you ready?" I asked anxious to get this over with. "I or Ms. Seacrest can glamour you if you like."

"No, I'm okay. Go for it whenever you're ready," he assured me, giddy anticipation heavy in his voice.

I dropped my fangs and sank them deep into his neck causing him to flinch slightly. The flow of his blood over my tongue, though heavier and slightly bitter was not unpleasant. His blood flowed smoothly and I could feel my bones beginning to knit together. A slight itchiness signaled that the gash in my neck was beginning to heal more quickly. If the low moan vibrating from his chest and the tight grip of his hand on my thigh was any indication, young Anthony seemed to be benefitting from the experience as well.

As a frequent donor, Anthony could feel me beginning to slow down. As if to prevent my withdrawal, his hand snaked around grip the back of my head. Finding the fringe of hair at the nape of my neck, he began to caress my neck, his body moving in slow undulations against mine. His low groans vibrated against my chest breaking the quiet of the room.

It was time to put a stop to this. I needed to get back to the ballroom and prayed that Sookie would be there when I returned. I took one last sharp pull and retracted my fangs. Anthony stayed where he was, leaning into me.

Sandy had been a silent observer throughout both feedings. Glancing at her over Anthony's shoulder, her expression was a study in contradictions: relief warred with anger, lust wrestled with jealousy. Her reactions confused me. Why would she have any reaction at all? I would have to think about that some other time, but for now I needed to send young Anthony on his way. I took hold of his shoulders and turned him to face me.

"Thank you," I said setting him gently away from me, "you can be on your way now." The faster he left the faster I could dress and get back to the ballroom.

"You're welcome," he replied. A slow, languorous smile underscored heavy-lidded eyes that were slightly glazed. As I looked at him, I wondered why he and those like him weren't enough for people like de Castro. He was willing and eager to prostitute himself for a Vampire's attention.

I extended my fangs, pricked my thumb and reached out to heal his wounds. He took a quick step backward. "That's okay," he said holding up his hands, "I prefer they not be healed." Seeing my astonished confusion, he hurried to explain, "Kinda' like advertising, you know?" he elaborated slowly, suggestively. "_Satisfied customers_." He said it as if that conclusion should have been perfectly obvious.

"Yes. Well then. As you wish." I wanted him gone.

As if reading my mind, Sandy tossed him his jacket and shirt and motioned him toward the door. "Come along boy," she said tersely. "You've done your job. Let's go." With apparent reluctance, he followed her out the door; hurriedly buttoning his shirt sleeves; his suit jacket over his arm.

It had been just over an hour since de Castro had carried Sookie out of the feeding room. He indicated that they would be back in the ball room, and I wanted to be there when they returned. I looked at my tuxedo jacket. There was blood spatter, but not so much that it couldn't be sponged off enough to get me through the rest of the evening.

I went to the closet to pull out another tuxedo shirt and took it with me to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. Better. There was still a tinge of grey around my mouth and eyes, but the bruising and cuts had begun to heal leaving shiny, pale skin in their place. I washed my face; put my shirt on. When I retrieved my tie, it was too soaked with blood to be used, so I substituted a narrow black tie in its place. I was combing my hair when Sandy returned. Uninvited, she stepped into the bathroom.

"Are you better?" she asked tentatively.

"Some," I replied. My tone was offhand, dismissive. I glanced at her reflection in the mirror to see if she had gotten the message. The anguish on her face startled me.

"Bill, I'm sorry," she began sounding harried and distressed. "I had no choice. He'd have ended you if I hadn't kept you quiet." Her words came out in a guilty rush. "He was fit to be tied when he came back from wherever he and Rod went. He was furious when he saw you two on the dance floor." Here she paused as if considering how to say what she needed to say next. "Something's happened that he didn't expect. He's changing tactics. Now he seems almost worried."

"Where did he go?" I asked, my curiosity laced with doubt about Sandy's sudden willingness to share. "What do you mean _'he's changing tactics'_?" I couldn't reconcile the torment on her face and her willingness to divulge information with the fact that her position should keep her solidly in de Castro's camp. I knew that he often treated her dismissively and occasionally treated her cruelly, but she had more to gain from staying in his good graces than she did in opposing him. _What was she up to?_

"It's something he didn't count on. If I knew I'd tell you." Her eyes begged me to believe her. Tired of our conversation reflected in the mirror, she took a step forward to put her hand on my forearm and turned me to face her.

"What could have changed?" I asked with growing dread. Her eyes slewed away from me guiltily.

"He's speeding up his pursuit of Sookie," she said quietly. He's being more aggressive than he's ever been before.

"What do you mean?"

"He was expecting Freyda to make a move against him or for Eric to try to take Sookie from him while we are here. He planned to retaliate, killing Freyda. He assumed that Eric would pledge his loyalty and hand over Oklahoma. If he didn't then he has contingency plans to take him out."

"That's been his plan all along; there's nothing new there, Sandy." My inability to feel Sookie fueled my impatience. I could feel the minutes slipping away. "What does that have to do with Sookie?" Guilt sat even more heavily on Sandy; her shoulders slumped and her hands clasped tightly together.

"He planned from the beginning to take her. The contract for her services was just a ruse to fool the Amun Council. They are aware of her; she's respected there. He knew they wouldn't let him take her to Nevada permanently. She's hot property for both Vampires and Werewolves in Amun." This last was said with the sneering tone of one who had never been considered _hot property_ by anyone.

"It would also keep her connected to him if Eric tried an end run," she continued.

"What do you mean '_end run_'?" I asked.

"If Eric tried to woo her to Oklahoma out from under him. He'd be able to file a grievance with both the Amun and Narayana Councils." Finally looking me in the eye, she added, "He wanted to make sure that she was solidly tied to him and his kingdom as an asset. He's wanted her since she saved him and Eric from Sigebert right after the takeover."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, suspicion weighting my words. "He is your King; this is treason."

Sandy took a step back and her eyes dropped, the crescents of her pale lashes resting firmly on her round cheeks. Fingers laced together in a hard knot, her tightly bunched shoulders rose and fell as she sighed deeply before looking up. Hard cold determination glittered in her eyes over a mouth pressed into a hard, flat line.

"I'm sick of being treated like gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe," she said. "Since Rod and Vito were promoted he has had no use for me."

"What did you think I would do with this knowledge? Why tell me now?" She had been treated shamefully by de Castro, but I wasn't ready to trust her yet.

"I'm afraid for you." She swallowed hard and looked away. Her shoulders slumped dejectedly, her arm encircling her waist as if to ward off a blow. "He doesn't just want to take her... it's too risky." She sounded annoyed by this admission. "He'll make her come to him by using you as leverage. Just like me, he'll use you until there is no reason to continue.

"He didn't used to be like this," she continued softly almost as if she was talking to herself. "I knew he wanted her, but he always acted like there was no hurry. He didn't want to get rid of Eric too soon, because he was his best money maker, and he had the most stable Area of any of de Castro's holdings. He didn't like the fact that Sookie and Eric were pledged, but it seemed like he was content to just let things rock along for a while." She paused and looked at me. There seemed to be genuine confusion in her eyes. "Then all of a sudden he started talking about Eric having to go to Oklahoma." She stopped talking and looked at me anxiously.

I had listened to everything she had to say, a sick suspicion beginning to weigh on me.

"Did you ever see Eric's maker, Appius Livius Ocella in Nevada? Did he ever visit or stay at Luna de Sangre?"

"Several times over the years," she replied offhandedly. "He and the King have been acquaintances for a long time."

"When was he there last?" I asked.

"March or April, I think."

"Did he and de Castro spend much time together?"

"Some," she replied. "There were a few problems while he was there."

"What kind of problems?" Her head titled as she considered my questions. I was sure that she was wondering at my sudden interest in Eric's maker.

"His child Alexi caused some problems that Rod and Vito had to clean up," she explained. "What are you thinking, Bill?"

I held up my hand in a stop motion. I needed to think. The timeline had just begun to form in my head when a hard, insistent knock rattled the door. I glanced at Sandy to see if she had an idea who it might be. When she shook her head, I turned and walked to the door. _Rod._

"You look a little grey around the gills, Compton," he observed cheerfully while brushing past me into the room. I might have been imagining it, but his condescending smirk didn't seem wholly genuine. His eyes looked more serious than mocking. "His majesty wants you two in the ballroom. The _happy couple_ will be making their appearance soon," he announced. If a tone of voice could have an eye roll, his would have had one.

"We were just coming," I said turning to Sandy. "Are you ready?" She nodded and then, remembering the state of her appearance, looked down at her bloodied dress.

"I need to change; I'll be quick," she reassured us turning on her heal using vampire speed to go to her room.

"What have you and Seacrest been up to?" he asked lasciviously, licking his lips.

"I'm not sure that concerns you," I replied tersely.

"You need to watch your step, Compton," Rod said flatly. "That little stunt you pulled with Sookie could have been the end of you."

My cynically cocked eyebrow communicated my feelings about his misplaced _'concern.'_

"Oh, don't get me wrong," he cautioned, "I don't give a fuck about you." He paused, seeming to consider whether or not he wanted to say anything more. "The King is feeling a bit—cornered. I wouldn't antagonize him if I were you. Both you and Sookie are likely to suffer the fallout."

"Why would you care?" I wondered. "I imagine that my days are numbered anyway."

"That may be," he agreed, "but let's not hurry the process along." When I raised my eyebrows skeptically, he elaborated, "It makes more work for me, and Vito has w-a-a-a-a-y too much fun." The mocking tone suddenly changed to a more sober one. "Sookie's juggling enough concerns, don't you think?"

The sudden veer of his comments toward Sookie and his serious expression gave me pause. _Why would he care about Sookie? _Just as I opened my mouth to question him, Sandy came sweeping back into the room.

I was startled by how much better she looked. She was wearing a soft, simply styled gown in a dark pink color. Her sallow skin was brighter and fresher; the flattering color made her hair seem more dark blond than mousey brown. The effect was so dramatic that I wondered why she hadn't worn this one to begin with.

"You look lovely, Sandy." I said quietly becoming disconcerted by the immediate effect of my praise. Her face lit up and if it was possible for a Vampire, I was sure that she would have blushed.

"Do you like it?" she asked reticently.

"I do," I replied. "Very much."

"I started to wear this one," she explained shyly, "but Pam said the other one was more elegant."

"Ah," I said noncommittally. If I knew Pam, she had picked the yellow just because she knew how bad Sandy would look in it. From the earliest days of the take over there had been no love lost between those two.

"If you two can stop the fashion gab fest, we need to get back to the ballroom," Rod interjected impatiently. With an acquiescing nod in his direction, I offered my arm to Sandy. She accepted with a shy smile and clung to me as we left my room. I felt a quick flash of pity for her at the way she seemed to bloom with the smallest amount of acceptance and attention.

The short walk to the ballroom didn't give me much time to revisit the timing and implications of Ocella's visits to de Castro, but several things seemed fairly apparent. At best, it was oddly coincidental that Ocella was in Las Vegas in the months immediately preceding his appearance at Sookie's house in late April. At worst, Ocella and de Castro had _**colluded**_ to broker the arrangement with Freyda effectively selling Eric to her. Either Ocella had conceived the idea and pitched it to de Castro or de Castro had approached Eric's Maker to make the deal with Freyda as a way of distracting her from her expansionist tendencies. Either way, Ocella would have come out with a substantial amount of money from both interested parties. That coupled with Eric's influence as a Queen's consort with the power to help him hide Alexi's murderous indiscretions would be too tempting for Ocella to pass up. By reputation he'd always had a way of making money with very little effort and with little concern for the consequences. Sookie would recognize this as having a '_bird's nest on the ground_.'

Eric and I had spoken briefly after Ocella's death. Despite his Maker's harsh training and perverse sexual proclivities when Eric was a young Vampire, he'd mourned his Maker. Even the chaos of his last visit with its potential harm to Sookie didn't seem to lessen Eric's sadness. He told me that he could not remember a time when his connection to Ocella's existence hadn't been a constant in his life.

Of course, Eric had wanted out of the brokered arrangement with Freyda and had been furious at his King's lack of support in resisting or nullifying it. De Castro's lack of cooperation made sense now. This wasn't just Ocella trying to secure a position of wealth and prominence for his progeny. It was partly that, but it was also the benefit of a King's promise of payment and favor to make it happen.

A maker holds absolute dominion over his progeny. Even after Ocella's death, Eric would have had no chance of nullifying the contract pledging him to Freyda without de Castro's support. Since de Castro seems to have been a player in creating the contracted arrangement, he wasn't going to give it. In Eric's eyes, the King's lack of support was damning enough, but how would he feel if he learned of de Castro's involvement in _**creating and promoting**_ the arrangement?

A quick tally told me that de Castro had seen the solution to a substantial number of problems with this arrangement. Pledging Eric to Oklahoma removed his immediate threat in Louisiana and the more removed threat of takeover by Oklahoma. Freyda would be at least temporarily satisfied. Moreover, Sookie would be low hanging fruit and available for challenge-free picking by de Castro. All of it had been neatly brokered, by Ocella and de Castro.

Though I couldn't prove it, I felt compelled to let him know my theories. The problem was _how_ to let him know, and how would the knowledge help Sookie?

Only the noise of the ballroom pulled me out of my ruminations. I checked my watch. It had only been seventy five minutes since de Castro's blustering show of dominance in the feeding room. I looked toward his tables. Neither he nor Sookie were there. Scanning the ballroom, I spotted them at a table on the other side of the dance floor. When the crowd shifted, I could see that de Castro was talking to Ulrich Havener, the Vampire King of Germany. De Castro was seated in a chair next to the King, while Sookie stood behind him with her back to me. I reached out to feel anything I could from Sookie. When absolutely nothing came back to me I began to worry that de Castro had forced more blood on her.

"We should probably go back to the table," Sandy urged. I had been silent on the walk from my room, and her anxious face told me that she was worried about what I was up to.

"Please, Bill," she begged, "don't push him anymore." We reached the table and I pulled out her chair and seated her without comment. I took my seat and continued to watch the German King's table.

From the broad smiles and the attention that Sookie was getting, she must have heard something that Havener needed to know about. Suddenly both Kings stood and honored each other with a courtly bow. With his eye cocked in de Castro's direction, he took Sookie's hand and bent low to place a chivalrous kiss upon it. Sookie returned his gesture with a stiff smile and a deep nod. In his ongoing show of possession, de Castro claimed Sookie's hand and tucked it into his elbow before proceeding to the next group of tables. Clearly de Castro was determined to flaunt his 'shiny new asset'.

At the next table on the 'show and tell' tour, both de Castro and Sookie remained standing as the King addressed one of Bartlett Crowe's longest serving Sheriff's from Indiana. Human and Vampire conversations coupled with the music from the orchestra made hearing any conversation impossible from a distance.

After a few moments, Sookie stretched up to whisper something in de Castro's ear. Words between de Castro and the Sheriff were exchanged and then suddenly, one of the humans at the table leapt up and started to walk rapidly toward the side door leading out to a hallway. Before he could get more than a few steps he was collared and handed off to another Vampire at the Sheriff's table who rapidly quick-stepped him out of the ballroom. Sookie's skills had netted another human transgressor. I figured that de Castro was reveling in congratulations on his good fortune having such a valuable pet. I wondered if he had any notion how many _human_ enemies he might be garnering for Sookie.

"You need to quit paying so much attention to the King and Sookie," Sandy hissed. "Rod and Vito will tell him everything you are doing and that will create more problems."

I looked around the table and sure enough, I had earned the scowling, sneering attention of Vito. Rod simply looked bored and rolled his eyes at me. No one but me seemed to be paying much attention to either de Castro or Sookie. Red Rita and Jeremy were deep in private conversation.

I glanced at the other table. Pam was still notably absent, but all of the other area Sheriffs were present. _Where could she be?_

"Look," Sandy said trying to draw my attention, "I know the King can be a hard ass, but he will take care of her. If she cooperates and treats him with the respect he deserves, then she will live a nice life and a better existence once he turns her."

I looked at her in total disbelief. How shallow can one be to think that being ripped out of one's life, forced into a relationship with someone you didn't choose, and then being threatened with human death followed by a Vampire's immortality could be a good thing? Especially for someone like Sookie? I tried to rein in my temper, but failed miserably.

"Just how _stupid_ are you?" I bit out between clenched teeth. My gums ached with the pressure of my fangs. "Do you honestly think that a 'nice life' is made of up of someone threatening you with the_** end**_ of your life? Is a 'nice life' made up of being forcibly taken away from your home, your family? What the hell is wrong with you? You haven't been a Vampire long enough to believe that for yourself, let alone her. Have you learned _nothing _about her?" The longer I fired questions at her the more she shrank back in her seat.

"I'm sorry, Bill, but there is nothing you can do." At least her stupidity sounded genuinely sympathetic. "He is going to bring her to his side, train her and then eventually turn her. When he gets tired of her, he'll turn her out. At least she'll be extremely well off when she's on her own."

"Do you think two million dollars of Eric's money will make her 'extremely well off' let alone be enough to compensate her for the loss of her family and friends, not to mention her very life as a human?" I demanded. I was aghast that she actually might believe what she was saying and that we were even having this conversation. I'd always known that Sandy was slavishly loyal to de Castro, but I had never pegged her as shallow and stupid.

"_Two_ million?" Sandy queried skeptically. "Is that what she told you?"

"She didn't _tell_ me," I snapped. "I was with her when Cataliades brought the paperwork." Sandy's eyes widened and suddenly she looked very uncomfortable. "Sandy...," I prompted. When she looked away and busied herself by looking through her handbag, I knew something was terribly wrong.

I grabbed her hand under the table and began to squeeze. I was determined to have her look at me and tell me what she knew, or I would rip her entire arm off and beat her into unconsciousness. "_**Tell me**_," I demanded. Her face was impassive, but as my grip strengthened the pain began to show. I could feel her bones and tendons beginning to give way.

"I thought it was more," she gasped, sotto voce. "His majesty collected one hundred forty million from Eric. I oversaw the transfer. I promise you, I thought it was all going to Sookie." Her eyes were nearly glassy from the pain I was inflicting.

My grip tightened again. This time from the towering rage that I felt for de Castro's backstabbing, double dealing treachery. He'd promised Eric he would take care of and provide for Sookie. That he would allow her to stay in her home among her family and friends. That he would protect her. Instead, he'd bilked Eric out of what had to be half or more of his personal fortune, gone back on his pledge to protect Sookie and had every intention to turn her at his leisure. He needed to die...finally and forever.

"Bill...please..." Sandy gasped. I let go of her hand under the table. Immediately her other hand sought its injured partner. She winced as the bones and tendons began realigning themselves. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I didn't know. I wasn't keeping it from you on purpose."

I was sure that my face reflected the contempt that I felt for her stupidity along with the King's duplicity and treachery. Just to have something to do, I signaled a passing waiter and snagged a glass of blood. I put it down in front of her and barked, "Drink." After that I was oblivious to everything but the furious pulsation of towering rage pressing down on me obliterating all reason and sense.

"You okay, Bill?" Rita asked pointedly breaking into the red haze of fury that had held me in its grip. Her face held a smirk, but her eyes held a warning. She had seen the exchange between Sandy and I and knew that I was teetering on the razor's edge of prudence and reason. "The music may not be up to your standards," she said, "but it's not _that_ bad."

She continued to hold my gaze understanding that her words fooled no one, but clearly hoping that I would gain my composure. I closed my eyes and heaved in a shuddering breath. If I had blood pressure, I was sure it would have been off the charts. When I opened them again, Rita was still watching me. She was apparently satisfied with what she saw, because she nodded slightly and turned her conversation back to Jeremy. As usual Vito glowered, Rod sneered and Sandy sulked...while straightening her fingers.

I scanned the room for Sookie. Apparently they'd made the rounds, because they were headed back to the table. As they got closer, I had an opportunity to get a good look at her. She looked exhausted and stressed. The toll of scanning minds, picking out the transgressors and knowing that they would be severely punished had taken its toll; all of that on the heels of the sordid goings on in the feeding room. She looked defeated and too tired to fight any longer. We were both caught in the hell of de Castro's making with no clear path out.

My eyes settled on her neckline. The infinity necklace had been replaced with a large teardrop-shaped blood red ruby that hung between the swell of her breasts. The Spanish style earrings had been replaced by a cascade of matching rubies dangling from each ear. I wondered how de Castro had managed to produce this change in Sookie's jewelry. As usual, I would come to find out that I didn't like the answer.

De Castro seated Sookie and looked around the table with a self-satisfied air. "Well, you look..._better_, Mr. Compton. Have you had time to contemplate our conversation?" He spoke as if we had been discussing some new computer program or business need instead of holding Sookie hostage to his driving need to consume and dominate.

"I have, your Majesty." It took everything I had to keep from leaping across the table at him. One glance at Sookie told me that she was precipitously close to her breaking point from exhaustion, stress and mental fatigue. Any untoward or provocative action on my part would be enough to send her over the brink. Everything from her posture to the look in her eyes and the pinched, strained look of her face begged me to back down.

"And...," the King prompted.

"I will serve you until there is no longer any need." _Which will be just as soon as I or someone else can remove your head from your shoulders_, I thought viciously. The narrow-eyed glare that I received from de Castro told me that he knew exactly what I had been thinking.

"Tread carefully, Mr. Compton," he said, reaching up to cup the back of Sookie's neck and sweep his thumb over her pulse point. Her breath hitched as her heart beat accelerated. "The stains on your jacket should remind you that there is much riding on your acquiescence."

"I am aware," I responded continuing to hold his gaze. The staring match ended with the screech of a microphone. Franklin Jarrett, Freyda's head of public relations was standing on the podium of the now silent orchestra.

"Your Majesties, Honored guests, Ladies and Gentlemen. Their majesties, Queen Freyda of Oklahoma and her Prince Consort, Eric Northman will be joining us shortly. This was to be the time that the members of Her Majesty Queen Freyda's retinue and her subjects would present their wedding gifts in anticipation of tomorrow's pledging ceremony." He paused theatrically and scanned the room as if to let us all in on a little secret.

However," the obsequious little toady continued dramatically, "her Majesty the Queen and the Prince Consort have chosen to make their commitment a little earrrr-lllyyy!" He sang shrilly. "The pledging ceremony was held privately earlier this evening and witnessed only by those closest to the couple." He paused and looked toward the double doors at the back of the room and gave a little nod. "Please join me in welcoming Freyda, the Queen of Oklahoma and her husband, Prince Consort, Eric Northman!"

The double doors swung open and the orchestra began playing. The couple entered to the strains of "People Will Say We're in Love" from the musical _Oklahoma_. The crowd rose to its feet as Freyda and Eric entered. She was stunningly beautiful in a flowing, brilliant red gown, her black hair pulled back on one side with a diamond clip while the rest hung down her back in a cascade of glossy waves. She looked genuinely happy wearing the dazzling smile of a new bride. Eric was dressed in an immaculately tailored black tuxedo; his golden hair tied back, a gold pin in the shape of Oklahoma adorned his lapel. He was stone-faced and determined baring no trace of a man happy in his circumstances.

As they strolled slowly along the red carpet accepting the congratulations and well wishes that were being offered, Freyda nodded to those she knew and accepted the greetings of those she didn't. Eric held her hand and nodded stiffly along with her. When the couple drew even with de Castro's tables Freyda's smile became brittle and triumphant as she gazed at Sookie. Eric on the other hand held de Castro's gaze long as he could before he had to take his seat.

As Freyda and Eric took their seats directly across the dance floor from our tables, the members of their retinue began to file in and as they did, at least one question was answered. There was Pam walking side-by-side with Freyda's second and progeny: the tall American Indian warrior, Avinash. Clearly, she was leaving Louisiana and joining Freyda's and Eric's retinue most likely in the role as Eric's second.

My eyes flashed to de Castro. His narrowed eyes, the tight line of his mouth and rigid set to his shoulders told me that this was unwelcome development. Now there would be no way that Pam could be used as leverage against Eric. That just left Sookie hanging in the balance.

As I looked at Sookie, despite her emotional and physical exhaustion, her dominant expression seemed to be relief. I supposed that she believed that at least Pam would be safe under Eric's care in Oklahoma. All I could think is that Sookie would be truly alone in Louisiana for however long she'd be allowed to live there. She caught my eye and shrugged slightly as if in acceptance of her fate.

The music continued to play as Pam and Avinash were followed by nearly two dozen Sheriffs, lieutenants and others who made up Oklahoma's retinue; the men in suits and the women in cocktail gowns in a variety of drab colors: grey, beige, and cream. The muted palate of colors seemed designed to be in stark contrast to the vibrancy of the royal couple's brilliant red and dramatic black. There was no way that Freyda and Eric would not stand out in that crowd.

As the parade continued, each member took up their place behind the Queen and her Consort with Avinash immediately behind Freyda's chair and Pam behind Eric's. The message was clear: Oklahoma was fully prepared to protect the royal couple and they had the resources to do it adequately. This was reinforced by a fair number of royal guards, both Vampires and Weres who had filed in to stand along the walls all the way around the ballroom.

When the last of the guards was in position, the music stopped. Eric rose from his seat and offered Freyda his hand. Her face glowed with what seemed to be a genuine, loving smile as she placed her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor as the orchestra struck up a waltz. Despite their height differential they made a striking impression as they moved smoothly across the dance floor.

After they had danced for a few bars, Franklin Jarrett made his way to the microphone one again. "Queen Freyda and Prince Eric ask you to join them for the Royal Waltz."

De Castro rose to his feet and offered his hand to Sookie. She didn't notice as her gaze was fixed on Eric and Freyda as they danced to the haunting melody with slow and easy grace. Her haunted gaze was pulled from the dance floor by the movement of various Vampire Kings and Queens toward the dance floor accompanied by their companions and escorts. Her face was stricken with the sudden reality of Eric's situation and her own. Her heartbreak was complete.

"Come along, my dear. Let's join the happy couple." She shrunk away from his outstretched hand. "I said, come along." He placed his hand under her elbow and brought her quickly to her feet. "The die is cast my dear. Eric is Prince Consort of Oklahoma, Freyda is his pledged wife, I am your King and this is their dance." He took her arm and quickly guided her to the dance floor.

Just as de Castro and Sookie moved into position to join those dancing, Eric and Freyda returned to their thrones to watch the spectacle of royal Vampires dancing in honor of their pledging. My attention was drawn to Eric.

As I watched, he seemed to be focused with laser like intensity on de Castro and Sookie. It was as if an invisible cord connected Eric with his former King and his former bonded and pledged wife. With every dip and sway to the music his eyes seemed to grow darker, his expression more menacing. I'd seen that look before and knew what it promised.

It promised pain. It promised vengeance. It promised death.


End file.
